Into The Underground a Colaborative Story
by H. R. Beck
Summary: Faced with growing unrest across the land Jareth the Goblin King has done everything in his ability possible to keep the great power of the Goblin Kingdom shrouded in obscurity. Trouble is abound when the Goblin King turns up missing and new people apear.
1. A Man Named Jareth

(Notice: The story you are reading is a colaborative creation. At current the contributions involving characters Lyta, Sarah williams [Bloody Satisfaction, Jack "The Junkman" Basil [Moneypenny1979, Ian Wright, and Nienna [Star Soup were and are activly being written by writers other than myself. All credit for those characterizations go my fellow writers involved with the Into The Underground Project.)

Contrary to the common belief of anyone who wasn't an actual Denizen of the Labyrinth itself the chaos, so often associated with the Goblin City and the castle beyond it, was restricted to the busy goings on of managing life in the Underground. There were chickens to be slaughtered, kegs to be made for the purpose of storing beer and other foodstuffs, and laundry to be done. Goblins weren't exactly the cleanest creatures in the Underground but even the grimiest of the lot took an occasional monthly bath.

There were a lot of fallacies regarding the general nature of how a Goblin City was actually run. Like any other metropolis the goblin Denizens took pride in their various trades which consisted of but weren't limited to metal and leather crafting, the manufacturing of spirits, and the tending of both chickens and hogs. There was also a deep sense of culture within the city; although in all fairness you often had to be either a goblin or a child to appreciate ballads about farting and epic stories depicting conquests over who was going to eat the last sweet roll. Believe it or no Goblin culture was chalk full of rich and undoubtedly colorful history, fashions, music and social oddities of all sorts. One just had to live there to know it.

Then of course there was the castle itself; a magnificent sight to behold and a social utopia in its own right. The castle, when not being magically manipulated for the sake of defense, was vast and kept largely in working order. Most of the goblins that resided within its walls where a little bit more refined then their other brethren, a little more articulate as well if not always all together intelligent.

At the center of it all was Jareth. The Goblin King. Regardless of what anyone actually thought about his personality Jareth made for an effective and efficient ruler. That was his job after all; ruling over the goblins and by association the very labyrinth itself. Jareth took pride in his position as well as his vast responsibilities. Maintaining a working Labyrinth along with governing a kingdom wasn't as easy as it might have seemed. There was always some part of the vast maze under construction as the stone pathways often had to be repaired or refashioned due to natural ware and tear.

Since nearly a quarter of the Labyrinth was made up of hedges, small lawns, and gardens; Gnomes had to be regularly brought in to reshape and manicure the green areas as goblins by nature weren't really inclined towards gardening. It took a lot of work to maintain a place that, for all logical intents and purposes, most intelligent beings would never willingly step a foot into. But in a way...That was the greater beauty of it all.

Yet for all that Jareth had accomplishing he was still just one mortal man. Oh yes. Jareth was quite mortal indeed, despite the rumors that were scattered throughout the Underground claiming otherwise. If he was somewhat magically endowed due to the nature of his position, his illusionist abilities were secondary to the man who actually possessed them.

At current the Goblin King was out of house. Flying no doubt as he always did in the early morning before the sun had yet to fully rise off the horizon line. While Jareth's crystals were effective when monitoring one thing at a time, they lacked the ability to present the greater picture that was the Labyrinth as a whole. For that Jareth was much keener to observing things for himself from the sky. There was also the escape his morning flights allowed. Jareth did not leave the confines of the Labyrinth often as his presence was often in such high demand. His morning flight was often the only chance the Goblin King got to have a moment to him self and even then his trips were often cut short by the demands of his people.

Speaking of demands the throne room of the castle was still caught in the relative repose of the early morning hour, with the exception of a clucking chicken or two, when a chubby goblin in uniform came nosily clamoring through the high doors that lead into the throne room.

"Your Majesty, your Majesty!" Between the alarming sound of clanking goblin armor and the somewhat guttural voice of the goblin wearing it, it only took about five seconds to rouse the entire room into a squawking frenzy.

The goblin in question seemed to have been unaware that his master was not in the castle. That problem seemed to shortly alleviate itself however as no sooner did the goblin guard sputter the second call did the barrowed form of the barn owl appear through the window instantly transforming into Jareth.

"What!" The Goblin King said in a snarl visibly annoyed that his morning outing had been predictably cut short.

The goblin in question barely had enough time to flinch before Jareth had practically materialized on top of him with his fist bunched at the goblin's tunic where the armor hung low upon his chest.

It was a common mistake to assume that all goblins were dim-witted and ill spoken. Granted there were quite a few who couldn't have told you their left hand from their right but there were just as many more who were quite capable of articulating themselves; particularly so if they made a habit of interrupting the Goblin King during the morning hours.

While obviously not one of the brightest bulbs around the goblin guard at current was at least intelligible enough to speak quickly in the face of his master's annoyance.

"Eh...It's the Arid Flats, Sir! Several of the Eastern hedge paths have been burned to a crisp. At first we thought it were due to the Wild Bunch cavorting about but the damage seems to suggest the hedges were intentionally doused in oil and set aflame. It's the work of Ariadne and her like no doubt."

Resisting the sudden urge to smack the helmet right off the poor goblin's head Jareth settled for giving him a single violent shake before releasing him to retire to his horned throne; the Goblin Kings's teeth gnashing all the way.

"Why didn't anyone catch it sooner?" Jareth asked sharply swiping up his ridding crop from the chair as he flicked the end impatiently against the side of one black boot.

"It was done in the middle of the night Sir and the oil caused the damage to be almost instantaneous. By the time it was brought to anyone's attention it was already too late. The fire had already burnt out..." The goblin whimpered slightly before randomly shrieking out a cry and launching himself to the floor near Jareth's feet. "Please, You're Majesty! Don't throw me in the Bog of Eternal Stench! Have mercy!"

"Get off!" Jareth hissed kicking lightly though sharply enough at the goblin's helmet to get him to stop groveling. "I will deal with this matter myself. Inform the dwarf of the damage and tell the Lawn Gnomes to get started on the repairs. I'll just have to seal off that part of the Labyrinth until the proper adjustments can be made. In the meantime I want double patrols on all the main routes and another set at all the check points. And this time, no mistakes!" Jareth barked.

The goblin was quick to respond as he nodded to his orders and fled from the room. Seeing their master was in a bad mood many of the other goblins dispersed as well leaving Jareth to contemplate his options in relative solitude.


	2. Hunting For Exiles

(Note: I do not own the Character Lyta. She was written by a very talented writer of whom, for various personal reason, left our colaborative effort shortly after introducing her character. )

Time moved on in the Labyrinth setting its Denizens into a steady pace. With part of the Labyrinth successfully closed off and most of the gossip about recent events already spread around the goblins returned to their usual revelries. While perfectly capable of working, Goblins by nature had short attention spans. Add the fact that there was almost always ample drink to be had and more then enough mud to throw, by this time of the day the Goblin City was usually ablaze with music, good natured skirmishes, and other foolishness.

---

Of all the places to land in, it had to be in a puddle of mud.

"Great. Just wonderful," Lyta muttered. And then she added a few words in her own tongue. They were not very nice words.

The banishment spell that had sent her here had been performed by a friend of hers, who had been selected to send her to a fate worse than death—embarrassment was worse than being beheaded, and even Bowden didn't kill noblewomen unless absolutely necessary—because he was the best magician in the land. He'd been reluctant to speak the words until Lord Bowden had threatened his young wife and unborn child. Lyta had understood completely and bore him no ill will. She was prepared to go to her fate with a stiff upper lip. Perhaps that was because she had no plans of fulfilling Bowden's promise of "eternal banishment." Oh no…she planned to return and take the land back from under his hooked nose.

But it was difficult to keep a stiff upper lip when you were sitting in a pile of rather odorous mud. And so Lyta took a deep breath and got to her feet, wincing a little as she watched the mud drip down her skirt and make a new puddle on the ground. The brown splotches gave her dark red skirt a strange look…like a very bad tie-dyer had worked on the fabric. Lyta greatly disliked personal uncleanliness, but in this case she knew she had to ignore it the best she could. So she brushed off what she could and wrung out the wetter parts. Then she wiped her hands on the grass and finally took in more clearly her surroundings.

The Labyrinth. Of all the places they could have sent her, she disliked this choice the most. Not only was it run by a madman, but the inhabitants were positively wild and there was no escape, not unless you were very, very lucky. Without her magic to help her—Bowden was too smart to let her keep her powers—she was really quite stuck.

_For now,_ she reminded herself. _Very soon, you'll find a way out of this place. Until then, just keep your wits about you, put one foot in front of the other and keep moving._

Right, first things first. It was time to pay a little visit to the Goblin King. She needed to find out what sort of man he was and if it would be possible for her to procure her freedom in some way. She had a feeling it was not going to be easy. Bowden would never have sent her here if there was an easy exit. And yet, she couldn't rule out the fact that she could bargain with him. She had to try everything.

Taking a deep breath, she turned her face slightly upward and spoke, seeming to no one, but she knew he'd be watching. He was very good at hearing his own name. "I am quite sure that you know everything that happens in your land, Lord Jareth, so you must know that I have arrived. I would like to request a meeting at your earliest convenience. And if it is not convenient, I plan on tracking you down anyway."

With that, she wiped her hands one more time, let out a small sigh and began to make her way in what seemed like the general direction of the palace… Which, in the Labyrinth, probably meant it was the absolute _wrong_ direction.

---

Whenever new arrivals entered the Labyrinth or, more times than not, got dumped there; it was up to Hoggle to investigate the situation and either direct the poor saps out or bring them to the castle. Usually Hoggle spent a great deal of time trying to persuade whoever it was to move on elsewhere. The only exception to the rule was if Jareth himself was responsible for their presence in which case it was really up to his Majesty to decide what was to be done with them. Otherwise Jareth was more or less content to let the new arrivals trek around aimlessly until they either happened to get lucky and find there way out, or they became so desperate to be put out of their misery that Hoggle had no choice but intervene.

The rest of the Underground generally viewed the Labyrinth as possibly the most dreadful place to ever be. Goblins on a whole were considered to be pests by other magical people who were apparently more evolved and orderly. In fact the Kingdom itself was largely seen as something of a joke among the greater denominations of beings that were scattered in various corners across the Underground. If Jareth was bothered by their scorn of his kingdom he took almost sadistic pride in the fact that no one wanted anything to do with him or the Goblin City.

In away this was something of a pity when one considered that goblins were incredibly powerful magical creatures despite their seeming simplicity and that if more Kingdoms had taken this fact into consideration when dealing with the anti-social Goblin King some very profitable alliances could have been made. As it happened Jareth had long since lost his patience in dealing with 'Real Royalty' as he himself was often viewed more as a dark wizard then an actual King. As a result of this Hoggle was often left to deal with naive humans, arrogant knights on quests, and uppity princesses who got themselves banished from their own Monarchy.

Cor. It was all so utterly unfair to get stuck doing all the crap duties no one else wanted to do. But Hoggle was used to it and too much of a coward to demand anything more.

Hoggle knew it were a princess too. Exiles were always the worst folk to deal with. Usually magically inclined they were the type to think his Majesty owed 'em something for their trouble of getting dumped in the Labyrinth and having to resort to indignities unbecoming of their high ideals.

Hoggle grumbled to him self as he hurried his way through the Labyrinth. It wasn't so much that the dwarf knew the secret of the maze as much as it was that Hoggle simply had an incredible sense of direction. Particularly if the direction he was going was leading him _away_ from something unpleasant.

"Cor! Fires burn'n, people dropping uninvited into the Labyrinth...What exactly do I look like. A tour guide? Humph." The dwarf complained.

"Hoghead do this...Hubble do that! Bwah! It's Hoggle fer cripes sake! After alls I do around here. Can't even get me bloody name right! That be gratitude for you." The dwarf continued to mutter as he stopped every few yards to double check his bearings.

It was this muttering that cued Lyta into the fact that she was no longer alone. If she'd have been in her right mind, she probably would have been able to sense it. After all, she had very sharp senses. But being transferred from her homeland to this dump had, understandably, messed with her mind a little bit. No matter. She wasn't planning on going batty, or giving up. In time she'd be herself again completely. Or as complete as she could be without her powers…

Following the sound, Lyta peeking around a tree trunk to see a hideous little creature that was talking to him self as he walked along. She couldn't make out the words, but he didn't seem to be lost. Perhaps this was her chance to find the castle and have a few words with the idiot who ran things. Of course, nothing in the Labyrinth was going to be easy, so she steeled herself for some hard bargaining.

"Excuse me, er, ah, sir," she finally settled on after a brief panic about what she was supposed to call him. 'Sir' was safe in almost all cases. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I've only just arrived, and I am interested in leaving as soon as possible. Would you be able to help me find the castle, or direct me to someone else who could?"

She started at him for a moment, waiting for his answer, and than hurried to add. "Lyta. I'm Lyta, by the way. Nice to meet you." She held out her hand without hesitation, telling herself that it was for the good of her future that she shake hands with the dwarf.

Hoggle had no illusions that he wasn't ugly. In fact as far as the grumpy dwarf was concerned, he found it rather a compliment that other creatures thought he was hideous too. Compliments would get them nowhere however.

As it happened Hoggle was just deciding what he was going to do with the unfortunate aristocrat once he found her when Lyta suddenly started to address him from a foot or two down the path.

"Ah, there's you are. No no ...No introductions necessary. I knows ya don't really want to shank my hand anyway ands I don't blame ya. So I sees you landed yourself in the Labyrinth." Hoggle observed taking a good look at the Elf. "What did ye do to deserve THAT punishment? Cor. Forget abouts it...I don't even wanna know." Hoggle said waving his gnarled hand dismissively.

In the many years the dwarf had lived and worked in the Labyrinth Hoggle had encountered a plethora of excuses explaining how other people got stuck there, making him non-to-sympathetic to the victim's tales of folly and woe.

"I suppose you'll be expecting me to take you to the castle, eh? Well you might as well forget about it. His Majesty's got the entire Goblin City on lock down. Mean'n if ye be wanting an audience him ye won't get it. Hmph." Hoggle explained.

"No need for any of that Sir stuff, neither...I'm Hoggle." the dwarf brought a stubby thumb to his chest as if to further his point.

Nice to meet you, Hoggle," Lyta said, retracting her hand, and not without an inward sigh of relief.

She found that she didn't want to tell him her story, so she was quite glad that he wasn't interested in hearing it. Telling the tale while covered with mud made her feel like she was complaining or begging for sympathy, and she didn't want to do that. She wanted to find a way to present her case factually without looking as if she was pathetically begging for aid. Lyta planned to get that aid, and the dwarf's response did not at all dash her spirits. She'd known from the beginning that this was not going to be easy. Besides, she liked a challenge.

"I don't think I'll forget about seeing the Goblin King, Hoggle, but I'm willing to put that to the side for a moment," she said. "May I ask why there is a lock down? Trouble, is there?"

Trouble could definitely work out in her favor. If the King was busy with other problems, then he wouldn't want her to become another one, and so he might be willing to help her out and be done with her. On the other hand, trouble could make it impossible for her case to even be heard. She was not about to be pushed to the side, no matter what was going on.

Hoggle's mouth went agape when he realized it might not have been the best idea to mention the castle was currently on high alert. Oops. The dwarf quickly recovered his wits however by correcting his prior statement.

"I didn't say nothing about there be'n any trouble. I was just pointing out a fact, is all." Hoggle explained as he offered Lyta an unconcerned shrug. "I'll tell you one thing, if you think his royal Majesty cares a wit that you've landed yourself here in the Labyrinth, you've got another thing coming. Jareth ain't the type to entertain concern for anybody, particularly if they be of your variety." The dwarf went on to say.

"Now's what you really need is a nice cup'o tea which I just happen to be in a position to give ye assuming I can find the right…Ah! There we go! I knew I left this thing lay'n around here somewheres!" Hoggle scuttled passed Lyta to scoop up what looked like a large thin metal ring used in making barrels. Most people would have likely mistaken it for random rubbish along the path.

That assumption was quickly obliterated however; when Hoggle rolled the ring onto its rim and dropped it in the middle of the path directly behind her only to sigh and suddenly step into the circle. No sooner had the dwarfs foot dropped into the shadowed ring did his foot seemingly disappear into the darkness as if he'd just stepped down a cellar stair. Hoggle wasted no time in disappearing down what now appeared to be a round hole before he returned half a moment later with a small oil lamp in hand.

"Gwah…Well? Are you coming or not?" He enquired of Lyta impatiently.

What a little liar! Lyta didn't believe for one moment that there wasn't trouble. But that could be left as it was for now. This little creature had already made one slip, and perhaps he would make another one. And therefore she had no qualms about going with him into the darkness. He wasn't exactly frightening, after all, and he could turn out to be very useful.

"Yes, of course," she replied when he popped back up. "Sorry, I was just thinking…"

She followed Hoggle down, watching her step carefully as she went along. It was cool, not cold, but Lyta had never liked being underground. Most elves didn't. They loved light, sun, nature, and all that was on the surface. Dwarves were the ones who holed themselves away in places like this. Stale air, confined quarters… Lyta shuddered slightly, and then hoped Hoggle hadn't noticed.

"An interesting way of getting around," she commented, trying to take her mind off of the darkness and the closed-in feeling that was creeping up on her. "You really do know your way around. If I may ask, have you always been in the Labyrinth?"

Hoggle lead Lyta down the dark tunnel. It was true Dwarves were largely earth dwellers not so much because they didn't like nature but because they enjoyed sifting through the natural wonders of the earth. Dwarves were one of the first cultures to perfect the art form of mining and metal refining. While Dwarven metal work wasn't always considered the most delicate of sorts most any dwarf had a fairly decent ability to produce beautiful and even artistic imagery out of stone and to a lesser or greater existent wood and other natural elements. Largely their craftsmenship was designed for endurance rather then beauty. Then again Dwarven aesthetics were unique to dwarves and usually only largely appreciated by other earth dwelling races such as Goblins and Gnomes.

Much lesser recognized were Dwarves relationships to nature in general which were often vast and deeply personal. It was rumored that some dwarves could divine the future purely by the twinge of a field mouse's ear, or the way the grace blew across the forest. However this aspect of their culture was highly individualized and very much shrouded in lore.

"Cor. The Labyrinth be full of tunnels. Assum'n ye know the way you can almost get anywhere in the Labyrinth with em. Course that's only of you don't get lost first. Mind you the Labyrinth itself be hard enough to navigate if yous don't know what you're about...but ye get lost down here alone and you're done fer."

Hoogle and Lyta finally came to a wide thick wood door. "Ah, home sweet home. It ain't much mind ye and I ain't really 'e type to do much cleaning but it be much safer in there then out here. Especially with what's been going on round here lately."

Hoggle wrapped on the door thrice before he opened it to let Lyta in.

"Don't gets me wrong. The Labyrinth aint such a bad place te live. Jareth does take care of the Kingdom I'll give em that, which is a pretty impressive feat when you consider that Goblin's aint got the greatest attention spans in the world. I mean take me fer example..."

Hoggle abode was really one medium sized room and relatively clutter free. Granted there was quite a thick layer of dust on most things but when you considered how little the dwarf probably entrtianed it wasn't all that unreasonable. There was a dawf sized bed carved into one stone wall that had a ragged though comfortable looking quilt neatly over it, as well as a little table, a make-shift wood cabinet, and a fire place. It appeared the dwarf wan't completely ill equipped to handle someone of normal average size as there was quite a human sized easy chair set up in the corner by the fire place.

"I've lived in the Labyrinth all me life. I've got a nice home, a job I mostly enjoys. And Jareth typically leaves me be as long as I keeps my nose clean and don't meddle in his business beyond what he tells me to do. And that be a fact. You don't see me suffering fer much an I have to admit this 'here place grows on ye after awhile."


	3. More Bad News

Jareth was not at all in a good mood as the afternoon began to press on. Even with both the Gomes and the blasted Dwarf working on the damaged parts of the Labyrinth it would still take quite some time to re-cultivate what had been lost. Up until recently the interference of the Junk People had been minimal. Jareth had particularly given them the Arid Flats to roam and scavenge in as they pleased and until the arrival of Ariadne it was not in the nature of the Junk People to wander very far from their liars.

That seemed to be changing however. Now numerous Junk People had been spotted in various places they shouldn't have been throughout the Kingdom. What was odd about this despite the fact that the creatures did not like to travel far from their homes, was that many of the sightings had only implied one or two of the creatures at most.

Junk People migrated in loose packs of eight to twelve. It was almost unheard of to see any less of that number in one place. Yet that appeared to be exactly what was occurring. Why? Jareth contemplated this question darkly as he lounged the long way upon his throne. It was a rare thing that the Goblin King didn't absolutely know what was going on in his own Kingdom.

Just then Jareth heard the obvious clumsy sound of one of his goblins enter the throne room. Marching before the throne the goblin bowed ungraciously.

Jareth snapped up into a proper sitting position which made him likely seem intimidating enough to put the other goblins on notice that their Majesty was in the middle of conducting business.

"Report, General!" Jareth ordered sharply his eyes now fully alert and imposing.

"Sir!" The goblin General stood at attention and saluted. "The Gnomes have begun reconstruction of the hedge mazes they estimate that the re-growth will take more then a week and that the hedge enchantments will have to be reestablished after the repairs are made. We have taken into custody several Junk People in sectors 2, 5, and 9. However we can't say which, if any, were responsible for the damage and none of them seem cooperative to our questions."

The Goblin Paused as if waiting for some kind of reaction from Jareth but was disappointed when the Goblin King distractedly waved him on.

"Huh...There's also a Elf roaming around the Labyrinth, Sir. At least we thinks it be an Elf. She looks the part but she don't have the smell of magic on her. Oh and...and a..." The Goblin faltered now as if an inkling of fear had suddenly made it difficult to string a proper sentence together but quickly corrected him self when he saw Jareth begin to grow annoyed.

"The-Lady-Araidne-has-sent-a-formal-request-to-speak-with-you, m' Lord!" The goblin horridly muttered speaking so fast his words strung together. "She leaves word to meet her upon the neutral ground of the Great Bluff overlooking the kingdom. What are your orders Sir?"

"Let Hoghead deal with the Elf. No doubt she's a foreign refugee who bit off more then she could chew." Jareth had particular disdain of the Elves given they were one of the more predominate cultures in the underground and likely one of few remaining magical races that could be dated all the way back to The Beginning.

In more recent history Warring had broken out among the various factions and the Goblin King had extended his hand to them only to have it thrown back in his face. Elves were above Goblin Aid it seemed preferring to stick with their own kind then accept relief from what the Elven leaders perceived to be nothing more then a charlatan wizard clutching at the grubby strands of royal power. Goblins, while considered magical creatures, were about the lowest a person could be and when the Goblin King had stepped forward to offer his services the Elves had rebuked him and thrown the offer aside and Jareth had withdrawn from engagement with the fading race entirely.

Jareth's eyes narrowed when the Goblin announced Ariadne's request. "So the witch wishes an audience with me, does she? Cut one of her putrid little minions loose and send them packing with a message to their mistress informing the _gracious _Lady I will agree to take and audience with her as she wishes an hour before dusk. She is to come alone and unarmed as per the Treaty of the Three Sons Dictates. Then put a horde of patrols along the gate wall and prepare the Goblin City to go on high alert. I will not take any chances with compromising the security of the castle."

The goblin saluted his master bowed and quickly exited to carry out his orders leaving Jareth mildly disturbed within his throne chamber.

---

**In The Lair of a Witch**

On the surface the Arid Flats seemed desolate and barren. Though there was at least a hoard of Junk People traversing and scavenging upon its surface at any given time. The bulk of the make shift domain of the Junk People was largely underground and deceptively burrowed into the hearts of the larger accumulations of trash. The system of tunnels was not unlike that of a rabbit warren in structure however the individual dwelling of the Junk People were formulated much like rat nests. Each individual was responsible for his or her own lodgings and the Junk People in general were highly solitary creatures that often competed against their own kind for resources and space.

It was hard to say who or what the Junk People actually were. Some believed they were a particular kind of goblin. However if that had been true it was reasonable to assume that the bizarre creatures would have been far more inclined to follow that of the Goblin King like the other goblins within the kingdom. Others speculated that the Junk people were in fact a large grouping of dwarves that for one reason or another had befallen some terrible enchantment causing them to wander the Arid Flats aimlessly in pursuit of their precious 'pretties' long since lost to them.

Dwarves were known for there almost obsessive compulsive need to collect things of value simply for the purpose of having them. Perhaps when it came to the Junk People of the Arid Flats something had gone horribly wrong someplace along the way. Regardless of one's opinions on the matter there was one thing that seemed to be agreed on when it came to the Junk people. The junk People were slaves to their own desires and that made them very troublesome to deal with.

Troublesome, that is, if you were the Goblin King. The very thought caused the Lady Araid to smile ever so slightly in her seat. Although not enough to disturb her carefully applied cosmetics, it was still enough to transform her rigidly stiff features into something that could have almost passed for lovely if her ice colored eyes hadn't ruined the warm effect.

It was under her personal direction that the fires had been set in the night. Ariad was sending a clear message to the Goblin King. It was a reminder that while he might have control of the greater domain that was the Labyrinth, she herself was not without some influence within its boundaries.

This was simply the beginning. If Jareth thought the dark witch to be anything less then he was the Goblin King was in for a rude awakening. Ariad had great plans in store. She was simply waiting for the correct opportunity to strike.

"Take your sweet time my dear Majesty. And I will take mine." Ariad spoke softly to no one in particular as she caught sight of her own reflection upon the silver plate that held what remained of her morning breakfast.

A strand of auburn hair had had somehow worked itself loose from its pin and Ariad's brows suddenly knitted as if the strand itself had committed some unforgivable act of defiance against her. Without so much as a flinch Ariad plucked the hair from its place and coldly allowed it to flutter from her self manicured finger tips as a sharp thoughtful gleam shone in the Lady's eyes.

"Bring me the dwarf by sundown and if he resists..." The Lady Ariad paused to study her features once again within the reflection the polished plate. "Strip him of his pretty possessions and cast him into the Bog of Eternal Stench."

As if on cue the mass of junk directly to Ariad's left shifted as if it had a life of its own (and it did too) and slowly made it's progression from the large Junk Encrusted room.

As the mass of junk under Ariad's command slithered out of the Junk Encrusted room, another being, also under Ariad's command, although arguably of a very different nature, came sauntering in past it; dragging a simpering, bedraggled Junk Person behind him as if the creature was no more than an armload of trash...although given the nature of the Junk People, this wasn't an entirely off base metaphor.

This man, for he really was still basically a man, was Lady Araid's lackey, Jack "The Junkman" Basil; although nobody remembered nor cared about his last name in this land, which suited him just fine. He appeared as always, disheveled and untidy, as if having lived in the Arid Flats among the Junk People for so long had permanently affected his person. Adorned in a dirty mustard colored overcoat, ill-fitting trousers and button up shirt, the askew wisp of a rumpled hideous necktie in a vile periwinkle pattern tied around his neck and a strange assortment of mismatched rings (or "pretties" as he would be inclined to call them") on his fingers, he was not a particularly impressive sight. A myriad of small bits of trash and debris were stuck into his mop of unruly hair, which stood out from his head in various curly inspired angles.

Although, one had to give him some leeway, it had been a bit of a long night.

"Sit down, here!!" He snapped at the Junk Person; pointing into the corner of the room as one might a disobedient dog. When the frightened Junk Person refused to move, or perhaps just moved a bit too slowly for his liking, Jack gave the creature a sharp kick into place. It was disturbing enough on its own, this abuse, but far more so when one knew that Jack, not so long ago, had been a friend and compatriot to the Junk People...just go ahead and call him Judas.

Muttering under his breath, something along the lines of 'damn nuisance', Jack approached the table occupied by Lady Ariad; his hangdog frown softening noticeably as he took the chair to her left. Jack was not a man who did things gracefully, even in the presence of a woman whom he harbored a rather adamant affection for. Thus, he slumped into the chair with typical sloppy masculine flair; leaning uncouthly on his elbows, perhaps just a tad too close to the Lady than she would have liked.

"You should have seen it Lady," he whispered to her in a mischievous, almost naughty tone; sleepy brown eyes uncharacteristically alight, "...those hedges going up like the bloody buildings of Parliament!" Ah, but of course, she wouldn't get that reference. Smirking, he sat back in the chair, snatching up an apple from the bowl of fruit in the middle of the table with one ringed hand. He'd sometime ago learned to adapt to Araid's cold mannerisms with his own style.

Pausing, teeth bared to maul the piece of fruit, he added, "I assure you, His Highness has got his tights in a wad over this one." Jack had no love for Jareth, although his motives were likely far different than Ariad's. He'd been more than happy to oversee the burning of Jareth's precious hedges last night, in fact, daresay he even had a bit of fun. It was just a warning of course, a small nuisance for the Goblin King, but the message was clear.

Biting into the apple with a loud snap, he continued on; muttering around the mouthful of food. "Jareth sent this one back..." He jabbed a thumb back over his shoulder towards the cowering Junk Person banished in the corner. "It won't talk to me, says it'll only talk to you..." He shrugged, "...something 'bout a message..."

Ever since his betrayal to them, the Junk People had been particularly cold towards Jack. But then again, who could blame them? Life had been peaceful before Ariad's rule, nomadic and fulfilling, just as it had been since the Beginning. But now, everything was different and the man who was once their peer had turned on them for this witch.

Jack's gaze was on Ariad as he took another bite of the apple. At first, he'd been scared to look at her, or even say much to her; she did have quite a domineering presence in all her grace and glory. But that had been then, and now she trusted him...or did she?

Actually for the dark witch it wasn't about reliance at all. It was about achieving a means to an end; her ends! If creatures like Jack were willing to offer their devotion to her, Ariad would take it and use that devotion in any manner she could. Jack was merely another tool for her deft designing and a powerful one at that; given that he gave unto her willingly and without resistance. As for those who did resist the dark lady...well now they eventually had a change of mind if not a change of heart sooner or later.

"Well about time!" Ariadne remarked sharply although she managed to keep her tone relatively even. "I suppose you've come from the castle, which means that our lovely little illusion has been achieved."

Ariad was referring to the fires. It was important that Jareth believe the hedges had been set ablaze by the Junk people and not Jack. Ah yes. Wonderful, unassuming...Jack. Had Ariadne been capable of any other emotions besides calculating indifference, hedonistic pride, and wrathful scorn; she might have developed a true, if limited, affection for the man in the same way that a woman developed a fleeting affection for fresh roses in spite of their thorns.

Still they were not the same sort of creatures. Jack despite the magic that had seeped into his veins, was more or less human at the core. He was human in the same sense that Jareth was human. Both men were mortal and thus prone to the mortal attachments of the Above realm.

That was another thing that made the Junkman valuable to her. Jack could travel between the worlds freely. A feat that was not completely uncommon in others like him though usually exceptionally limited. Jareth, for example, could cross worlds as well but his abilities were tied into the collective power of the goblins and thus he could not linger in the world of the Above beyond the restraints of what had called the Goblin King to leave the reclusive confines of his kingdom. Someday Arid would travel to that other place known as the Above, but not before she finished her business with the Underground.

Her first task was to gain complete control over the Goblin Kingdom.

"What do you think, Jack? Has his royal mightiness bothered to accept our humble request? Or do you suppose our little bond fire met with an ill reception..." Ariadne's voice had taken on a languid, though melodically rhythmic tone. Not unlike that of a viola, as the lady leaned forward to rest her elbow upon her knee and her chin idly in one long fingered hand.

As usual Ariadne was leaning away from Jack even as he leaned towards her. Ariad did not like anyone, let alone Jack, in her personal space.

It was sad, almost, how unaware Jack was of Aridne's indifference to him. It certainly wasn't a lack of intelligence on his part, but more along the lines of that prevalent all-too-human trait of denial. Besides, even if in his more speculative moments Jack was aware of the Lady's cold shoulder, there was always the old, 'if I keep helping her and obeying her every whim, she'll surely come around eventually' mentality to fall back on. And really, he was doing her a great service, how could she not return his affections at some point? He was well aware of her desire to go Above, and he would gladly grant her the opportunity to do so, if only he knew how. Then again, his unique ability to go Above with little problem was what made him so valuable to her, without that, he feared he was a bit too expendable for his tastes. No, things were quite good the way they were; well...mostly.

"The illusion is steadfast," Jack replied around his mouthful of apple, before finally having the manners to chew it up. "I have it on good accord that Jareth has seen his fair share of Junk People around the castle, and has naturally blamed the incident on them." The very prospect of Junk People roaming outside the Arid Flats was certainly strange enough to even catch a dimwitted goblin's attention, let alone the sharp eye of the Goblin King. It was a brilliant little distraction.

Flashing a dull smile, Jack leaned back in his chair; hands lacing behind his curly head. "Besides, who would think it was poor ol' me anyways?" Yes, Jack's unassuming looks and demeanor certainly had worked well for him so far. It was all a matter of how far he could take it.

The smile faded as Jack's heavy gaze remained on the chilly Aridne for a long moment before he finally replied. "Oh, his Highness is not pleased Lady, that much I can tell you. He's heightened security around the castle to a near boiling point." He snorted, "Watching those moronic goblins scuttle about is about enough to give me a good laugh..." His gaze drifted away from her to the Junk Person still huddled in the corner. "You'd best be asking that creature Lady, but from what I could get out of it, Jareth has sent a message back. It seems we have at least gained his attention..."

Sure enough the junk-person in question, though greatly disgruntled by its most recent and traumatic ordeal -not to mention Jack's unwarranted abuse- , quickly confirmed to the dark sorceress that the Goblin King had indeed agreed to her request. After relaying the stipulations of their upcoming meeting upon the bluff to Ariadne, the Junk-person quickly bowed and fled making double sure to avoid the Junkman; lest he decide to abuse it further as it departed.

Not a moment after hearing the Goblin King's stipulations did a sly, and almost beautifully frightening, smile curl at the edges of Ariad's mouth; Allowing Jack a rare glimpse of the witch's pearly incisors.

"Excellent." Ariad's ice colored pupils seemed to burn brighter as her eyes widened in knowledge able anticipation.

"Naturally Jack, we needn't play by his Majesties rules. When the time comes to meet his Gobliness I want you there but out of sight. The point of this exercise is to draw the Goblin King away from the castle and keep him there. The goblins might out number us but they are stupid useless little creatures and easy enough to over come." Ariad mused.

Now that they were alone in the junk encrusted chamber Ariadne did something that was often unheard of at any other time. She rose from her make shift throne of twisted metal and broken trinkets to pace. Now given that Ariadne was particularly tall and that for someone such as herself the chamber was not that wide. It only took Ariad a few good steps in her long stride to walk from one end of the room to the other. Thus she deliberately slowed her movements when standing in the chamber to give the added illusion of exacting feminine grace.

"We must be precise in our actions Jack. As goblin King Jareth has the benefit of the binding magical laws of the Labyrinth to protect him. Thus we must seek to use this advantage against him if we are to succeed in gaining control over the greater goblin kingdom." By this time Ariad had already walked to the end of the chamber and back to turn and pace away from Jack again. Even though her pace was gracious the swift and cutting pace of her voice revealed tense calculating energy.

"No doubt Jareth will hold to the stipulating requirements of the treaty of the Three Sons, he is foolishly honorable in that regard...which means that I can not willfully harm him while upon the neutral ground of the Great Bluff." Ariadne suddenly stopped where she stood half way across the chamber with her back to Jack's face and did a half turn, coiling her torso and neck to consider Jack without completely turning around.

"There is, of course, a loop hole to the binding magic of the treaty..." Ariad's features took on a gleefully sinister edge as her eyes narrowed.

"The treaty of the Three Sons was forged under the assumption that both parties were actively aware of each other's enemies and allies. This is why the treaty stipulates that the representative parties come alone and why I can not willfully harm his Lordship myself." Ariad absentmindedly formed a fist with her hands but quickly loosened them lest her nails draw blood within her palms.

"The treaty fails however to specifically provide protection against outside acts of treachery committed by a third party, as long as the third party is NOT considered to be a personal threat in the eyes of the original assembled representatives." A genuine smile actually appeared on Ariadne lips as she stared at Jack.

Ariad knew all to well that Jack harbored a particularly deep grudge against the Goblin King. If there was ever be a time for Jack to even things between Jareth and himself, the time was soon approaching. Although Ariadne herself could not lay a hand directly to harm the Goblin King out side his precious domain...Jack could.

Provided, of course, that Jareth didn't actually realize that Jack "The Junkman" Basil was a threat to him until AFTER to the man struck him down.

Jack had been so pleasantly surprised by Ariad's sudden and rare flash of her disturbingly beautiful smile, that his initial response to the beginnings of her plot was a simple, "Naturally, Lady...," drawled out in his dry English tone, but it was obvious that his attention, if not already so, was fully captured.

When Ariadne stood to pace the room, the Junkman stood up from his seat, as if to honor the Queen herself. Standing in place, his apple long forgotten on the table, Jack watched her pace the room in that slow and graceful manner; like a snow white swan drifting on a crystal clear lake...or some silly overdone analogy along those lines. But truly, her feminine poise and beauty was in stark contrast to he ungainly room around her, not to mention the man watching her.

The beginnings of a poem working up in his mind, Jack pursed his lips forcing his attention back on the matter at hand. Unconsciously, he sat himself down on the edge of the table, arms folded over his chest as he listened to Ariad spell out her devious plat in full, articulate detail. While his face began in a typically neutral expression, by the end, he was smiling as well; albeit a rather self serving and mischievous smile.

"Bloody brilliant Lady," he whispered, sliding off the table. "Bloody damn brilliant!" Still falling a number of inches shorter than Ariad, even with the help of a head of unruly hair sticking up from his head, the Junkman beamed pure ambition and self-interested glee up at her. "There's no way in hell His Gobliness will see it coming. He'll be vulnerable, away from his precious castle and hordes of faithful minions..." Jack trailed off, musing the benefits of this whole arrangement internally. How long had he been waiting for a chance like this? It seemed like eons! Jareth, safe in his lair, was impossible to touch; particularity for a near mortal like the Junkman. But outside his castle, and under the guise of meeting Lady Ariadne in a 'peaceful' meeting, his Lordship would be wholly caught off guard. It would be spectacular, finally getting a chance to strike Jareth where it hurt; specifically his pride. The Goblin King would never suspect a being such as Jack to even attempt such a thing, and to be stuck down by the Junkman...why, it would be irony itself!

Jack's normally languid gaze was bright on Ariad, as a touch of gratefulness seeped in. But no, she did not think in such ways. Thanking her for this opportunity would be of no use. Jack knew that her sole ambition was to get rid of Jareth and rule the Kingdom as her own, using a being such as the Junkman as a means to her ends was part of the plan. But Jack knew that well enough, and at the moment it seemed to matter little to him. He always had a way of getting what he wanted out of any sort of deal.

"I won't disappoint you Lady," he said instead, lip twisting in a somewhat enduring sneer.

No. He wouldn't disappoint her. Whether he realized it or not, it was in Jack's personal best interest not to ever disappoint Ariadne. After all, as valuable as the "Junkman" was to the sinister Witch for his unique abilities...Jack was expendable. There of course was more then one way to achieve the thing he could do for her. Even if it was absolutely necessary to use a magically inclined human to achieve her will...such people were not exactly quite so uncommon even in these new and strange times. Why just five years ago another mortal said to be able to cross worlds had entered the Underground, and from what Ariad had gathered about the situation, Jareth and the young woman had had something of a personal investment in each other.

In the long run...Women were so much easier to manipulate than men. There were times when Ariad cursed the heavens for not coming to this place sooner when she might have lured a fresh eyed child into her service rather then who she currently had as her right hand minion. Still one made due with what one had to work with. If nothing else Ariadne was highly adaptable to the changing winds of her position.

Producing a peacock feathered fan from someplace Ariad turned all the way around and held out a beautifully shaped hand for Jack to assist her as she stepped back up upon the small dais of her make shift throne. Feeling unusually nostalgic for the old times, whatever those old times were, Ariad felt indulgent enough in the wake of her planning to allow Jack this small token of her approval of him. She was well aware the man's very human feeling towards her and when inclined she did not mind feeding ever so slightly into his fantasy. After all Jack's affections for her where the heart and soul of her hold over him and Ariad was careful to nurse those affection while still keeping the man at arms length.

"Jack..." Ariad smiled graciously from behind her fluttering fan. "Leave me now so I may further prepare for our plans..." Ariad said almost coyly as she allowed the "Junkman" the rare privilege to come shockingly close to her as she stepped up upon her dais to reclaim her seat.

In a very uncharacteristically chivalrous manner, the Junkman took Ariad's graciously offered hand in his own, as if the slim, pearly white appendage was the most fragile thing he'd ever touched; even though in reality she could easily crush him with it. Ah, but then again, that was part of the appeal...

Sleepy brown eyes locked in on her as he inhaled just noticeably while she ever-so-coyly allowed the distance between them to narrow for a few brief moments as she stepped up to the dais. She smelt of everything alluring, and yet somehow utterly frightening in the very richness of it all. Now, Jack was no stranger to women, oh no, his infatuation with Ariad was not so pathetic to be induced by some sort of inexperience or curiosity in the pleasures of women. But no woman he'd ever met could even hold a match to Lady Ariadne. The Lady was more than simply a woman, she was an astral body onto herself; a thing of magnetic beauty and dangerous power. The type of being that only one who was just a bit more than a man could truly appreciate...and deserve.

"Of course Lady," he replied hoarsely after a lengthy few seconds. Grudgingly, he released her hand and stepped away from her; gaze lifting to regard her as she now had gained a considerable amount of more height at her perfectly poised place on the dais.

He offered a slightly clumsy sort of bow, the sort of gesture made by a human who had not originated in such conditions. Then, flashing a quick smile, one both full of that sort of innate clever villainy that was Jack and a ample helping of longing affection, he stood back up to his full unimpressive height. "You will know where to find me Lady, if there is anything else you wish to discuss..." Jack tended to stay within the Arid Flats now that Adriad had ceased the territory, plus the Junkman knew it was best he stay close in and unseen by Jareth until the time came to execute their plan.

"Good day Lady," he added, as he turned and left the junk encrusted throne room to navigate the tunnels of junk that made up the underground of the Arid Flats. Jack, so preoccupied with his meeting with the Lady, meandered these tunnels with the sort of familiarity and ease one gains from living here for years and years. This familiarity was a benefit for Jack, for after all, there was quite a bit to think about.

It was true that both Jack and the Lady Ariadne had much to think about in their own and separate ways. Jack was so busy in fact with these thoughts, among other distractions, no doubt; that there was no way he could have noticed the slow shift of junk that seemed to emerge from its camouflaged position near the entrance to Ariad's Liar.

Although the walls of Airadne's personal chamber were dense with packed trash. The intimidating size of Ariad's distinctive voice was not always the easiest thing to muffle even when spoken in softened tones. While Agnes the Junklady had by no means heard the full extent of the witch's plan or Jack's role within it; Agnes was intelligent enough to know when something potentially troublesome was in the makings.

"Hmmmmmm. I bet those crusty rusty armored old farts will be interested te here about THIS lil ren-dez-vou! Meh, Agnes is no fool...She knows Jareth best be watching his back 'round here. THAT be fer shure. Hmph!" The Junklady muttered to herself as she slowly made her way in the opposite direction.

The things men did over a pretty face. Bleh!


	4. Boston Home of All Things Normal

(Note: The Cystal Ball is an actual fable. I do not own it.)

The sun was just beginning to peak over the mountain peaks that stood as a backdrop to the vast city of Boston. The hustle on the streets was the early morning commuters and mumbles of groggy children boarding school buses. Many of the outside communities were quaint neighborhoods with swing sets in the backyards, a fence in the front yard, and a dog barking at the door. In the neighborhood of Highland Grove the Williams residents made home. A simple family; a father with a daughter who remarried to a woman and parented a baby boy together. Like any family they had their problems and like any they had secrets…but only the daughter knew about the secrets.

And these secrets? These special things that only she knew about, that she didn't plan to share with anyone, not even her younger brother whom she believed to still be too young of an age to completely comprehend it all…well…she wasn't thinking about any secrets. Except the secret of where her checklist may have disappeared off too.

With her father at work already and her stepmother preparing Toby for daycare, Sarah was up with the rest of the earlier birds. Sarah, no longer the naïve young girl she used to be had grown up. A few inches taller but still as lithe, fair skinned, and lovely as always. Layers of chestnut shaded hair was cut to mid shoulder length and framed her remaining child-like features with that pair of sharp hazel eyes.

Clad in a pair of faded blue jeans and an off white fitting button-up blouse decorated with a violet flower pattern, bare feet shuffled against the wooden floor and stepped over the assortment of boxes on the floor. By the array of the room that was usually cluttered with stuffed animals and trinkets one would possibly find in an antiques store was now packed in newspaper inside of boxes. Was she moving? Well, yes. In less then a week she was off to the NYC campus for the performing arts. How more unbelievable could life be right now?

Sarah hadn't felt this excited, felt these many butterflies in her stomach in years. She had always wanted to go off to college and even more so a college focusing in acting. Such a hard to get into college, it was her stunning one-minute dialogue performance that got her in. And what had she recited…simple…the words that shaped her life…saved it. '…I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City…' Ah, but old words, old memories were a fleeting thing to Sarah, at least at this moment. She was concerned with her current reality and that was getting packed.

"Where did I put that list?" she muttered between a set of clenched teeth in apparent aggravation as she continued to trek through the vast clutter.

Noon came and went in sunny Boston as people bustled to return from their lunch breaks and children were ushered out doors to play before it was time for their afternoon snacks. All in all the weather was somewhat warm for this time of year encouraging people all across the city to take advantage of it before the season changed.

Outside? Who on earth would want to go outside? Not Sarah, no, there was an enormous amount of packing yet to be completed. By lunch time she had found her list which consisted of a basic check list of the items she needed to pack.

"Sarah," a voice called through the bedroom door followed by a sharp knock. "Sarah, come out of there. You have plenty of time to finish packing, why don't you go take the dog for a walk? It's so nice outside."

Sarah looked up from her current task and sent an aggravated glare in the doors general direction. Sarah and her step-mother; the relationship over the years had certainly improved. Her step-mother wasn't quite the evil step-mother from the fairy tales anymore, not because she wasn't that evil a woman but that Sarah had grown out of her 'I hate my parents, mother, father, the world, ect.' teenage stage, and they had come to neutral grounds with one another. "I'm busy," Sarah answered the annoyance apparent in her tone.

"I have to pick up your brother soon and someone needs to get that dog out," came a somewhat patronizing response. A few moments passed before the bedroom door was pulled open and Sarah emerged in a huff. "That dog is named Merlin," she retorted tartly and slipped past her step-mother who was left with a bemused façade.

"Come on Merlin," Sarah called as she snatched a jean jacket from the coat stand next to the front door. The aging sheepdog padded off after the girl with an enthusiastic 'woof'. She decided to take the few blocks over to the park, it would give Merlin the walk he required especially considering the dog in his old age had a bad case of arthritis (the vet informed extra exercise could help relieve it), and being at the park always gave her a sense of serenity. The park was more crowded then usual with children at play, other dogs roaming the grass, and other numerous people. Moving away from the crowds she scouted out her favorite bench near the duck pond and situated herself; Merlin roamed over to sniff a tree. It was a beautiful afternoon, the sun was out, and there was a gentle breeze in the air sending strands of brown locks this way and that. Allowing that aura of calm wash over her Sarah stared off into the distance letting her mind wander. And where did it wander? The Labyrinth.

Arf! Sarah immediately snapped out of her daydream and smiled down at Merlin. She extended a hand and gave him a ruffled pet on the top of his bushy head. "Let's get outta here," she said as she rose to her feet and collected her jacket from the bench. Merlin obediently followed the girl out of the park and onto the side walk. She had only been out for an hour and that seemed long enough for her to have been away from her packing. She did have a schedule to keep too, well, a schedule in her own head. Apparently nobody but her cared about.

Coming to the four way between the block that lead to her neighborhood and the shops down town Sarah naturally turned to head down her block but Merlin wasn't on the same trek as she was. After taking a few steps down the block Sarah quickly realized the animal was not at her heels. Merlin was always a fantastic dog when it came to following her without a leash; he knew exactly where to go, except today. "Merlin, come on. We're going home," she called out to the dog that stopped mid-step and looked at her with a dumbfounded expression as if to say 'no, we are going this way, silly girl.' And continued walking towards the downtown area.

Sarah, reluctant to follow at first knew she couldn't let him wander around on his own like that so she turned on her heel and followed after him. It wasn't long before Merlin lead her to that quaint little tea boutique. Selena's, one of Sarah's favorite places to go but as to why Merlin led her here today was curious. She gave the dog a raised eyebrow before opening the door and taking a step inside. "Selena?" She called out closing the door behind her, the jingle of the bell attached the door announcing her entrance.

"Ah, Sarah! Excellent timing. Excellent, indeed." Just as Sarah came through the entrance of the shop Selena Fitzgerald appeared out of the small back storage room carrying a box that was approximately the size of a bowling ball in her hands. She had acquired a new oddity, no doubt, as yet to be unveiled.

Today Selena was sporting a vivid dark blue wrap embroidered with tiny silver flowers and matching tailored pants. As usual she accessorized with a huge belt accented with mother of pearl jewelry. On some people the ensemble might have seemed over the top or trashy but on Selena it looked elegant, neat, and deeply reflective of the woman's personality.

Setting the box on the counter Selena maneuvered around the island to give the familiar young woman a hug and to scratch Merlin's ears. "Good boy." Selena muttered making a brief kissy face and giving the dog a nod of approval. It was difficult to say by Selena's tone if she was simply saying hello to the sheepdog or if somehow her and Merlin had been in cahoots with each other in bring Sarah to the shop.

"So update me! You know I want to hear...How's the packing going?" Rising back to her full height the older woman returned behind the counter and produced two tea cups from one of the various shelves. The actual café portion of the tea room was further back in the store but Selena always seemed to have something ready on hand where ever she was standing. In this case the sound of percolating water could suddenly be heard as the mini machine clicked off indicating the water was ready. It was hard to say beyond a doubt that the machine had been there a moment ago.

"A nightmare," Sarah exclaimed to the front of the counter. Selena was a lovely older woman, she would never think of Selena as old because she had so much spunk to her personality. To Sarah, Selena was that best 'adult' friend.

She had started off by stopping by the shop on occasion to buy a piece of jewelry; always exotic and unique, then two years ago Selena offered Sarah a part time job helping at the store after school which lead into a full time summer job. It also gave Sarah an outlook when she had needed it to convey her adventure in the Underground to the world. Of course, this was done in a story-telling format during one of Selena's Actor Guild seminars. Selena questioned her about it and Sarah claimed it was from her imagination, but deep down Sarah had a feeling that Selena didn't believe her. Sarah contemplated telling Selena the truth but as time went by and Sarah grew older and more mature she kept regarding her adventure as what it was told as; a story.

"My step-mother won't get off my back, my father is no help, and I promised Toby I'd take him to the park this weekend. They are having a festival or something," she continued, her eyes skimming the counter to view the various decorations of jewelry and other knick-knacks. "I'll never be ready in time to drive up to campus next week with dad to start getting my dorm ready." She exhaled an exaggerated sigh and lifted a hand to rake through brown locks. "And, you," she started, the stress leaving her voice as the essence of the atmosphere was making her feel better. "How are you? I know I didn't come by the other day like I said I would."

"Oh, Pish-posh. Never mind about yesterday. Believe it or not I remember what it was like to be your age." Selena waved her fingers dismissively and smiled. "What's important is that you're here now. Come look what I've got." Selena chuckled excitedly, the tea momentarily forgotten as she waved Sarah over to her side of the counter and pointed to the box she had set down.

"I think you'll find this interesting Sarah. It's taken me ages to track down." Selena Lifted open the box top and removing the packing material and bubble wrap, she then carefully lifted out what appeared to be a medium sized crystal ball. Double the size of a billiards ball and clear as glass Selena quickly fished out its base which was simply a donut shaped mahogany ring, now gone nearly black with age.

Inscribed on the edge of the mahogany was a barely visible signature carved into the wood in German. Selena wasted no time in translating it. "Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. Vola!" She pronounced with an accurate German accent.

The girl stared in silent awe. The moment Selena had removed the packaging and she set eyes on the beautiful object she felt a chill run up her spine sparking a whirlwind of memories in her mind. The crystal ball traveled from her mind's eye into her thoughts playing a movie of a handsomely mysterious man performing elaborate hand tricks with the exact same crystals. As if her hand had its own thoughts she stretched a single digit to touch the smooth surface. The sensations in her fingers picking up on the cool temperature of the crystal, as if the feeling snapped her awake she retracted her hand as if burned instead.

Sarah quickly realized what she had just done and she gave Selena a nervous smile. "It's beautiful. Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm… the Brother's Grimm…." Those stories had always been some of her favorites.

"That's amazing, Selena." She wasn't sure why the sight of the crystal ball made her feel overcome with anxiety. It was just a crystal ball…a crystal ball so similar to what the Goblin King owned….and the memories…she didn't want to think about 'him'.

She spared a quick glance back to the ball and then concentrated her eyes on Selena. "Where did you find it?"

"Oh I've been trying to track this little beauty down for decades. See originally it was being kept in a German museum in Hesse. That's where the Grimm Brothers were said to be from, you know. This was just one of several items said to have inspired some of their greatest fairy tales. Of course then World War II happened...and well, like a lot of national treasures around that time, the museum was bombed and its artifacts ransacked and stolen. Such a pity." Selena made a clicking sound and shook her head unaware that the last phrase was possibly significant to Sarah.

"So then from what I can tell it floated around Europe for a while and eventually ended up on a ship to Italy. They take these sorts of thing very seriously there. Apparently when it was discovered among a load of second hand antiques the captain refused to ship out until it was removed. Superstition. A Deacon from the Catholic Church had to be called away to bless the ship. It just so happens that the Deacon is friend of mine. He sent me a letter followed by this package. It's all completely off the record of course." Selena winked. "Eventualy I suppose I'll have to send it back to Hesse, assuming they believe it's the real deal and not a fake. But it's neat all the same. Don't you think? Crystal balls are one of the oldest forms of divination you know."

Sarah nodded her head in a somewhat disconnected mannerism as her mind wasn't fully in the tea boutique with her body. Selena's explanation wasn't necessarily going in one ear and out the other; actually she was fully acknowledging what she was saying it was just bringing locked up memories to the forefront of her mind. It was fascinating how Selena acquired the crystal ball. Sarah was incredibly thankful that she wasn't going to tell her that her friend stole it from a Goblin and sent it to her.

Trying to put her self back down to reality Sarah couldn't help but mutter coherently, "…if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams…" Her lips pursed tightly and she gave the crystal ball another glance. It wasn't that type of crystal…it belonged to the Brother's Grimm, the most infamous tellers of children's fairy tales. But, maybe they did… Sarah turned her attention to Selena, crossing her arms over her chest to seem nonchalant, "What do you suppose they used it for?"

"I dunno. Fortune telling, discerning the nature of the Universe, holding down loose parchment papers..." Selena shrugged giving no indication she had heard Sarah's remark.

The older woman produced a thick papered letter from some place and began to skim the page. Naturally it was written in Italian and must have been the accompanying letter with the package from the Deacon. "Let me see...I believe the Deacon mentioned something in here...Ah, yes. Here it is...This is good. He indicates that the crystal ball inspired a fairy tale by the same name."

Selena paused. "You know I think I have a book with that story in it some place. Selena briefly disappeared to rummage in the book section of her shop only to return with a worn book in her hands. "Yup! I knew I had it."

The book was written in German which was likely a reason it had yet to sell. Seleena was nice enough to translate. Due to her vast traveling Selena had long since become proficient in many of the romantic languages.

The Translation went as follows:

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**The Crystal Ball**

**THERE was once an enchantress, who had three sons who loved each other as brothers, but the old woman did not trust them, and thought they wanted to steal her power from her. So she changed the eldest into an eagle, which was forced to dwell in the rocky mountains, and was often seen sweeping in great circles in the sky. The second, she changed into a whale, which lived in the deep sea, and all that was seen of it was that it sometimes spouted up a great jet of water in the air. Each of them only bore his human form for only two hours daily. The third son, who was afraid she might change him into a raging wild beast a bear perhaps, or a wolf, went secretly away. He had heard that a King's daughter who was bewitched, was imprisoned in the Castle of the Golden Sun, and was waiting for deliverance. Those, however, who tried to free her risked their lives; three-and-twenty youths had already died a miserable death, and now only one other might make the attempt, after which no more must come. And as his heart was without fear, he caught at the idea of seeking out the Castle of the Golden Sun. He had already travelled about for a long time without being able to find it, when he came by chance into a great forest, and did not know the way out of it. All at once he saw in the distance two giants, who made a sign to him with their hands, and when he came to them they said, "We are quarrelling about a cap, and which of us it is to belong to, and as we are equally strong, neither of us can get the better of the other. The small men are cleverer than we are, so we will leave the decision to thee." "How can you dispute about an old cap?" said the youth. "Thou dost not know what properties it has! It is a wishing-cap; whosoever puts it on, can wish himself away wherever he likes, and in an instant he will be there." "Give me the cap," said the youth, "I will go a short distance off, and when I call you, you must run a race, and the cap shall belong to the one who gets first to me." He put it on and went away, and thought of the King's daughter, forgot the giants, and walked continually onward. At length he sighed from the very bottom of his heart, and cried, "Ah, if I were but at the Castle of the Golden Sun," and hardly had the words passed his lips than he was standing on a high mountain before the gate of the castle. **

**He entered and went through all the rooms, until in the last he found the King's daughter. But how shocked he was when he saw her. She had an ashen-gray face full of wrinkles, blear eyes, and red hair. "Are you the King's daughter, whose beauty the whole world praises?" cried he. "Ah," she answered, "this is not my form; human eyes can only see me in this state of ugliness, but that thou mayst know what I am like, look in the mirror it does not let itself be misled it will show thee my image as it is in truth." She gave him the mirror in his hand, and he saw therein the likeness of the most beautiful maiden on earth, and saw, too, how the tears were rolling down her cheeks with grief. Then said he, "How canst thou be set free? I fear no danger." She said, "He who gets the crystal ball, and holds it before the enchanter, will destroy his power with it, and I shall resume my true shape. Ah," she added, "so many have already gone to meet death for this, and thou art so young; I grieve that thou shouldst encounter such great danger." "Nothing can keep me from doing it," said he, "but tell me what I must do." "Thou shalt know everything," said the King's daughter; "when thou descendest the mountain on which the castle stands, a wild bull will stand below by a spring, and thou must fight with it, and if thou hast the luck to kill it, a fiery bird will spring out of it, which bears in its body a burning egg, and in the egg the crystal ball lies like a yolk. The bird will not, however, let the egg fall until forced to do so, and if it falls on the ground, it will flame up and burn everything that is near, and melt even ice itself, and with it the crystal ball, and then all thy trouble will have been in vain." **

**The youth went down to the spring, where the bull snorted and bellowed at him. After a long struggle he plunged his sword in the animal's body, and it fell down. Instantly a fiery bird arose from it, and was about to fly away, but the young man's brother, the eagle, who was passing between the clouds, swooped down, hunted it away to the sea, and struck it with his beak until, in its extremity, it let the egg fall. The egg did not, however, fall into the sea, but on a fisherman's hut which stood on the shore and the hut began at once to smoke and was about to break out in flames. Then arose in the sea waves as high as a house, they streamed over the hut, and subdued the fire. The other brother, the whale, had come swimming to them, and had driven the water up on high. When the fire was extinguished, the youth sought for the egg and happily found it; it was not yet melted, but the shell was broken by being so suddenly cooled with the water, and he could take out the crystal ball unhurt. **

**When the youth went to the enchanter and held it before him, the latter said, "My power is destroyed, and from this time forth thou art the King of the Castle of the Golden Sun. With this canst thou likewise give back to thy brothers their human form." Then the youth hastened to the King's daughter, and when he entered the room, she was standing there in the full splendour of her beauty, and joyfully they exchanged rings with each other.**

**----------------------------**

"Pretty nifty, huh?" Selena inquired when she was done and closed the book. "I suppose the story isn't really referring to the same kind of crystal ball that this is but I guess that where creative license comes in to it. What do you think Sarah? Care to have your fortune read?" Judging by the smirk on the woman's face Selena was only half joking with the offer. It wouldn't have been the first time Selena had applied her vast knowledge of all things weird to entertain her customers and friends.

In conclusion Sarah quite enjoyed that story as it was one she had never heard. She always liked the happy ending stories, an ugly princess turned into a beauty and seen for what she really was. A family bonding back together. It did bring a small smile to her angelic features. The story itself held no resemblance to her current thoughts on the Labyrinth or its inhabitants. Actually, it was a nice take on the idea of what the crystal ball could be used for. Defeating evil and breaking curses, not just showing the future and cheap parlor tricks.

When Selena bought up the subject of reading fortunes Sarah said in a joking tone to mist over her still present tension, "It'll probably just show you that I should be home packing." But jokes aside curiosity won over her inner thoughts screaming at her to say no. She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe…" She knew Selena had been half joking as well but usually one to stray away from false future readings Sarah felt inclined that this time maybe it was important…even if it was just pretend.

This time she gave a firm nod and a small smile stretched back on her face. "Yes, why don't you Madame fortune teller? I feel an emerging cloud of mystery hovering over my head that needs a clearing," Sarah said in a humorous dramatization with a hand gesture to add flair.

"Excellent." Selena muttered with a smile. "Let me go put this crystal ball in the display." Selena's store was located on a corner lot allowing her two display spaces instead of just one. While the one near the entrance was almost always over run with objects of browsing interest the space in the cafe' was left for the more sensitive objects that Selena wasn't inclined to sell. The window in question was tinted a soft rose which shielded delicate objects from fading or being damaged by light while also offering a private and personal feeling to the cafe's atmosphere.

"I've pulled out a chair for you, Dear. go and sit down while I get the tea ready." Selena instructed when she came back. It just so happened that the chair in question was face in the direction of the display allowing Sarah to be in plainly view of the crystal ball had she looked directly straight in the seat. "Go on don't worry about Merlin. He'll be fine in here."

Sarah pet Merlin before departing into the directed room. When she settled in the chair she felt her muscles tense and quickly sought out the source of her discomfort. It was that crystal ball again. It was staring at her like a relentless eyeball. She had to get a grip on herself. This wasn't a crystal ball that had significance to her past and it didn't hold anything for her future. It was a simple crystal ball that probably inspired some of the greatest fairy tales of all time.

When Selena came back over with two cups of steaming tea Sarah couldn't help but deeply inhale the luscious aroma. She had never been a fan of tea but after being offered some by Selena every day she worked there she quickly became an addict. "Mmm," she moaned softly through pursed lips, "What flavor today?"

"Cranberry and vanilla orchid." Selena replied with an accomplished expression. "My own creation. The stuff you get in the store is all right but I much prefer making my own blends; Gives it a more satisfying flavor. Things are almost always better when their made fresh and by hand." Selena set the cups down and plopped into her own seat adjusting herself until she was properly comfortable.

"OK Kiddo here's how it works. When you drink your tea make sure to leave a sip or two of the water in the cup so that you can distribute the leaves. Got that? Then once you're done drinking take hold of the handle and rotate the tea cup slowly, three times clockwise, allowing the remains of the water to come up to the rim of the cup. That'll distribute the leaves properly." Selena instructed. It was obvious she'd done this several times before.

"Then you turn the cup upside down on its saucer and...Presto! We can then turn the cup back over and I'll tell you what it says."

Sarah was never big on fortune telling. It wasn't that she didn't like it, it wasn't one of her fonder hobbies. She allowed Selena to read her palm on a few occasions but that was it. Now she was doing to tea leaf readings. On any other occasion she'd probably be excited about this; all things mysterious excited her but today she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck tingling, and not in a comforting way. But, she wasn't going to let that get to her.

Instead she laced her hands around the cup and raised it to her noise. She inhaled deeply allowing the aroma of cranberry and vanilla orchid tingle her senses. It smelled delicious and after blowing gingerly on it for a few moments she was able to taste it. The tea was perfect but it was still hot. So, Sarah decided it was best to bring up conversation instead of sitting there in anticipation of her finishing. Sarah had retired from her help at the tea boutique for a few weeks now but she knew Selena had been a bit hesitant about getting someone else to help now that she was gone. "Has anyone answered your ad for help around here?"

"Oh mostly the usual local kids whom I wouldn't mind hiring if I actually thought they'd work instead of just digging through the shop for 'cool' stuff." Selena chuckled. "Not that I have anything against people digging through this old place."

"I did actually get a call from a young gentleman from the community college the other day. His name was Allen I think." Selena took a slow sip of her tea.

"He wasn't looking for work but then again neither were you when we first met if I recall. Apparently he wanted to know if I carried tarot cards in the store. He was trying to locate a set in order to prove some scientific theory or other he was working on. I directed him to that shop over on fifth street. Although polite enough I detected a distinct air of skepticism, the poor fellow. So few people hold onto their child-like imaginations anymore."

Sarah nodded in agreement with Selena's words on imagination. As she went back to sipping her tea she could feel a ping of sadness settle in her stomach. She knew not only for the world but for herself that her imagination was burrowing deeper and deeper into her subconscious. She needed to be prepared for the real world that she was entering and imagination wasn't going to fit, not easily at least. But, she didn't want to think of that right now. She wanted to finish her tea and enjoy herself.

She took a few more gulps before lowering the cup. "I'm sure you'll find someone. The high-schoolers get desperate once school starts up again. And I promise on my trips back home I'll stop by here to make sure you've kept the place in order without me," she joked in a fond manner. She had grown so close to Selena and she hadn't realized till then that so many things would change once she went off to college. As excited as she was she was also scared out of her mind.

Straightening up in the chair, Sarah absent mindedly began sipping the tea until she realized she had almost left none for the reading. "Oh," she exclaimed, coming back to reality. "Looks like my teas ready."

"Ah excellent! I'm done with mine too." Selena remarked put her own cup aside and rubbing her palms together as if she were warming them up. Selena briefly assisted Sarah with turning the cup properly as the task could be tricky if you weren't familiar with doing it.

Soon enough Sarah's tea cup was face down in the saucer. "Now shall we see what it shows us?" Selena slowly turned the cup over allowing the bulk of the tea leaves and remaining water to remain in the saucers.

"Now, here's how it works." Selena began putting aside the dirty saucer to tilt the tea cup in the middle of the small table so that Sarah could see clearly while she explained.

"Basically we are looking for shapes, letters, and numbers. Any of which will give us important clues about what the tea cup has to tell us. See the tea leaves closest to the rim? Those represent the present and the near future. Then as we work our way down from the rim were going further into the future. Naturally the very bottom represents the distant future or outcome of the collective events.

Now the symbols closest to the handle represent things that affect you directly, Sarah. While the symbols on the opposite side represent things that'll only have a passing effect...so think of it like the closer the symbols are to the handle the more you should take them into consideration and vise versa."

Selena adjusted herself in the chair and cleared her throat as if to indicate she was preparing herself for deep concentration. "Now let see what we have to work with..."

Selena peered quietly into the cup hemming slight. "Mm. Yes, see that dotted line there? It literally goes from the rim of the handle all the way down to the bottom of the cup. That is an indication of a long journey on your part, which would make sense since your going off to school pretty quickly now. Ooo! And look! See that little stick man about half an inch from the rim with a triangle underneath him? That means a stranger is going to come into your life. The triangle underneath him is an indication of good fortune so I think he'll be a friend. The stick figure is also a symbol of help from unexpected places."

If only Sarah knew how important all of this was going to be she would have tried to prepare herself better. Of course she paid attention; she always paid attention and was serious about anything involving magic because magic was seriously real. She leaned forward, her arms folded on the table, and her slender brown brows narrowed on the decorative teacup. It was amazing the items and figures a few tea leaves could create with the downturn of a cup.

Her hazel hues took in the design fully and tried to save it to memory before moving to the individual pictures that were displayed. As Selena started to explain each symbol Sarah concentrated on it taking her words in and deciphering it in her own words within her mind. A long journey? That obviously meant her journey college, what other journey could she be taking at this current point in time? It was almost funny and ironic how her whole life seemed to be one long journey after another.

The next symbol, the stick man over the triangle caused Sarah to start feeling overwhelmed by the sight and true relevance it had to her life and instead tried to make humor out of it. "Can you tell if he's a cute guy?"

With a small smirk on her face her attention traveled to the next most prominent image, a snake. Her smirk immediately dropped like a heavy stone thrown to water. Snakes were slimy, untrustworthy, vile creatures and she wasn't even referring to the actual reptile. No, in her mind snakes represented the worst snake of them all….Jareth. Not only did he threaten her with an illusion of a snake he turned out to have similar characteristics. How she grew to despise him in only a few hours. Her ill thoughts of the Goblin King were justified after what he put her through…but she couldn't completely ignore the other things. How he captured her imagination, her fantasies, and what if she had never walked away from him?

Well, those were what ifs that she hardly ever dawned on. Only in her dreams and deepest daydreams would she ever even consider another route other then hatred for the man. But, there was that other route…that fork in the road.

Coming back to reality, in all sense of the word, Sarah looked up to Selena and questioned casually, "What does the snake symbolize?"

"Oh the snake has an amazing symbolic history. In Egyptian times for example the snake was synonymous with the golden Egyptian sun God Amun-ra who was said to take the form of a snake and emerged from the water to inseminate the cosmic egg which was created by the other gods. It was said that all life on this earth stemmed from this egg." Selena explained.

"And you know those...um, the symbol of the cobra you often see adorning the headdresses of the pharaohs? The pharaohs wore the symbol of the cobra on their head to symbolize sovereignty, or royalty. This snake worn on the head also indicated the possession of the so-called third-eye, from which nothing could be hidden, in this or in the next world. It's thought that those who own this symbol in their nature are very powerful individuals because they have the ability to both create and dissolve illusions of the heart, mind, and spirit.

The Hindu people for example follow the thinking, that at the moment when the snake, or spirit, awakes through strict religious practices and rises into eternity, one can reach the ultimate state of humanity. Pretty amazing, eh? That snakes represent the ultimate form of humanity in some cultures?" Selena smiles as she thought about it before continuing her explanation.

"In Greek mythology it is said that the center of the earth, sometimes called the Navel of the Earth, is guarded by a snake, called Pytho. Above this navel the Oracle of Delphi, called Pythia was said to have been built. Then of course you have the biblical reference of the snake seducing Eve and, by association, Adam into eating the golden apple of knowledge which got them kicked out of the divine Garden of Eden." Selena made a tisk-ing sound.

"So what I'm really getting at here Kiddo, is that snakes get a really bad rap for being evil and untrustworthy when really, in many cultures they are considered the protectors of humanity and the keepers of divine wisdom and inner truth." Selena gave Sarah a warm pat on the hand almost as if she were sub-consciously trying to comfort Sarah's troubled thoughts on the subject.

"At its simplest the symbol of a snake represents duality. No one is one thing, Sarah. In reality good and bad, right and wrong, are purely subjective to an individual's perception. In that sense one should try never to take anything about a person or situation for granted; particularly when it comes to the motivations of people...because you never really know. The nature of the snake is to become what you want it to be. If you want him to play the villain, then a villain the snake will become and vise versa." Selena shrugged idly in her seat.

Oh! Speaking of perception..." As usual Selena had an Amazing ability to change the direction of the conversation in mid epreession to something less weighted and more casual.

"Do you know what my favorite cultural reference to the snake is? Here I'll tell you. The Aztecs placed high regard for the snake in their culture and it was believed that the snake was feathered...-feathered, can you believe that?- allowing it to communicate with the Gods. Well in one famous Aztec story it is said that an Aztec King who seeks immortality would come.

It is believed to find this immortality the king was to be sent out to sea on a raft laden with snakes. The soothsayers of old claim that one day, a new god will return from the seas. And they say that he will have long blond hair, blue eyes, and will be wearing a brighten armor."

"Pretty sexy stuff, huh?" Selena smiled mischievously arching her brows in an ambiguously suggestive nature before giving Sarah a wink.

"In the world of tea leaf reading the appearance of a snake usually indicates an enemy and tend to involve a personal hurt of some kind or an _affiaire de coeur..._ as the French would say." Selena explained.

"Judging by where it's located in the cup I'd say it represents a person, probably already present someplace in your life...though very distant...perhaps...even removed from you in nature. So I don't really think you have anything major to be concerned about. If this person does come back into your life he shouldn't directly interfere with anything you're currently trying to achieve for yourself."

Sarah felt like she had just undergone the most extremely heart wrenching educational lecture she'd ever received in her life, let alone the ones she'd hear in college. The first part about Greek and myths and Pharaohs she was only half listening too. Actually she wasn't paying much attention at all except for key words such as; for granted, villain, ect. It wasn't until Selena caught her attention with the Aztec theory that Sarah only looked like she wasn't paying too much attention because her mind was busy spinning.

Her thoughts weren't entirely focused on the story of the Aztec king, actually the whole concept made her want to laugh. What really started her thinking was the mention of what the snake meant to her and her tea leaves, not what the Aztec king was going to do on some boat. Affiaire de Coeur? That would have been even funnier if she hadn't blatantly noticed the obvious 'J' and 'K' mixed in with the other tea leaf symbols. Were her deep dark fantasies becoming reality? Of course not, she'd never care for Jareth in any other way other then anger. But that wasn't even the half of it...How on earth could he come back into her life? Why on earth would he come back into her life? Everything was going fine, she was doing fine, she didn't need an enemy from her past ruining things. But, she had to remind herself of what Selena was saying; the snake was not always associated with evil. They were good…sometimes. That and she was almost completely forgetting that Selena said this probably wasn't going to happen.

But why did she get a sick feeling in her stomach? Why was the image of blonde hair and blue eyes becoming so vivid in her mind….and why the hell was she deeply yearning to see them in person?

No, this was stupid. The only way she'd ever see Jareth again was metaphorically speaking or in a future college essay assignment. Sarah lifted a hand to her head and using slender digits gingerly rubbed at the space between her eyes to remove the pressure. Slowly she put her hand down to the table and refocused her eyes. She licked her lips apprehensively. She needed to find an image that didn't remind her of Jareth…not that castle image…or that flying bird. No….maybe…was that…? Her brows narrowed and she pointed at the discovered symbol and asked, "Is that supposed to be a dog?"

Of course Selena -bless her heart- was completely unaware that anything she was saying could possibly be ripping through Sarah's consciousness like it currently was. If Selena had realized how pale Sarah was turning she might have put an end to the entire reading right there and then. Unfortunately for Sarah, Selena was now deeply engrossed in her educational lecturing. Old habits died hard.

"Hm?" Selena blinked coming mostly out of the trance her lecture on the symbolism of snakes had lulled her into. "Oh. Kinda looks like a Scotty dog, eh?" Selena said turning the cup to located which smudges of tea leaves Sarah was referring to.

"Dogs or dog heads usually mean companionship. You know like the saying 'Man's best friend'...typically it's associated with a loyal and trustworthy friend of some kind." Thankfully this explanation was shorter then her last one.

"And look there's an "H" near it. Do you have any friends with an 'H' name, Sarah?"

Hoggle. How could Sarah not attach an o.g.g.l.e. onto that H? Her most loyal and trustworthy companion in the entire world, including the Underground. Even when her faith in him was faltering he regained it with love from her heart with his heroic actions in the Goblin City. He had saved her from the insane Fire Gang, guided her through the Labyrinth in his own twisted way, and stood by her side through it all. If anyone deserved to be labeled her best friend it was Hoggle. A better friend then any human could ever be…and certainly a better friend then she was.

There it was; the guilt started to pour into her stomach like an acid drain. She hadn't spoken to him in at least a month maybe more. She needed him, she really did but the weight of her life was weighing off that need. That acid began to churn and it made her insides twist and she subconsciously crossed her hands against her stomach instead of placing them on the table. She missed him. She missed all of them; Sir Didymus, Ambrocious, Ludo.

She inhaled slowly and settled her gaze on Selena. Had she answered her question? "Uh," she started, "…Yes…from a long time ago…" She shifted in her seat and quickly changed the subject, "Anything else interesting on there?" Honestly she wanted to stop and go home now.

"There's some circles and wavy lines...but pish-posh. Most tea cup readings have those. Just a fancy way of abstract concepts like frustration an uncertainty...Nothing to unusual about life there." Selena sighed and gave her head a little wiggle as if she were clearing the heavy mood of the room from her mind.

"That's it Kiddo." Selena said rising from the small table to scoop up both cups and place them behind the cafe' counter. "In truth, Sarah. Regardless of how much you believe in this sort of stuff...only the past is ever concrete and even then, I'd wager, that our perceptions of what came before can be misguided and ill informed. Only you control what's real and right in your world Sarah. The world in here and in here." Selena poked on finger to her heart and the other to her head before Merlin's low gowl-wimper reminded her of the time.

"Yes Merlin, I know it's getting late." Selena briefly met the elder sheep dog in the large doorway between the cafe' and the rest of the store producing a treat for him and giving the dog a warm brisk rub on the head. "Thank you for bringing her to me, I think we've got a lot accomplished."

It was hard to say who exactly Selena was talking about when she used "we" while talking to the dog. Let it never be thought that Selena Fitzgerald was not a very strange, though wonderful, woman.

Sarah remained seated before immediately following after Selena. She allowed the relief of knowing that the session was over clear her stomach so she was able to rise to her feet without feeling like she was going to hurl. She walked out beside Selena just as she finished saying a few words to Merlin that made the girl's brows narrow in curiosity.

It didn't last long as the sheepdog wagged enthusiastically at her and gave another bark to get going. She glanced to the clock and then to Selena. She couldn't blame the woman for what she did…actually it may have been good what had happened with the tea leaf reading but she was glad it was over. To show her gratitude she leaned in and wrapped her arms around the older woman in a brief hug. "Thanks Selena." She pulled away with a smile. "That was…educational," she commented with a hint of sarcasm in her tone. She nonchalantly stuck her hands in her jean pants pockets. "I'll stop by before I leave next week. Promise."

As you like, My Dear." Selena returned Sarah's hug and gave her a playful tweak on the nose. "You know your always welcome here. Say hello to you're parents and brother for me. Who knows, maybe next time you come back I'll have wrangled that attractive young man...Allen What's-his-name, into taking over your old position here. He does sound like a skeptic but I do believe he can still be saved." Selena gave Sarah a cheeky wink as she returned around the main shop counter and started cleaning up the box the crystal ball had come in.

After goodbyes were exchanged Sarah briskly walked out of the boutique. When Sarah came to the fork in the road and took the correct turn down her street she had no problem with Merlin following her this time around. During her five minute walk home her mind felt some jumbled with thoughts the haze of it almost caused her to walk into a pole, luckily Merlin was there to walk close at her side for direction.

When she arrived home she wasn't even aware of her stepmother asking where she had been or absent mindedly answering her. She didn't even take much notice to Toby who was busy helping mommy prepare the dinning room table for dinner. "You're father will be home in an hour," Sarah recalled her stepmother saying as she ascended the staircase. That meant she had an hour to lock herself in her room before dinner.

Finally setting foot in her room the disheveled girl closed the door and collapsed belly down on her bed. The tea reading, that stupid tea reading opened the vast door in her mind flooding her reality. All she could keep on thinking about was Hoggle and the last time she had spoken with him. She recalled it was quite humorous as he told her the happenings in the Labyrinth. Nothing unusual, as he performed his duties. He knew she didn't want to hear about Jareth or the Goblin City but kept their conversation enlightening. They even had a few jokes about his last encounter with Sir Didymus and how Didymus complained to the dwarf for a good four hours about the Bog and how he couldn't believe the Bog smelled to high heaven or that no one wanted to join him in his guarding duty. Good times.

Sarah let out a muffled moan of frustration as she rolled onto her back, face up to the ceiling, and a pillow now hugged to her chest. "Every now and again in my life for no reason at all I need you…" she muttered softly to no one. "But, I don't need you. Any of you. Not right now."

She tightly closed her eyes and hugged tight to the pillow in her grasp. She was almost an adult, she couldn't depend on mystical creatures to help her in life. She had to find real people, real friends…and maybe that was why she had been dismissing Hoggle and the rest the past few months. This wasn't her reality, college was her reality. But maybe what she was longing for she already had and she was just denying the truth.

Plagued with these thoughts Sarah feel into an uneasy slumber.


	5. The Bad Dream

As dusk quickly over took the underground Jareth stood bothered at his favorite window that over looked a majority of the Labyrinth's vast boundaries. Lord the land could be beautiful sometimes...however the image of his domain brought no comfort to the Goblin Kings soul at this particular moment. Something felt wrong to him. Something was causing the balancing scale of life to feel burdened too far in one direction. Yet what could be done about it if Jareth was not aware of the source of the problem? For a brief moment the Goblin King contemplated backing out of the arrangements he'd made with Ariadne to meet her on the bluffs? But then again what was said was said. Jareth couldn't just take the agreement back. It was his duty to allow Araidne to take audience with him now that the request had already been grated. Like it or not the sorceress was a part of the Labyrinth populace as well and if Jareth did not do as he promised and meet the Lady on the bluff there was sure to be hell to pay for it later. Well? What was he waiting for? There was no time like the present and the sooner Jareth got the deed over with the faster he could return to his solemn post.

"I am so tired." Jareth sighed and brought a gloved black hand to his face before he took the form of the barn owl moments later and made way towards the bluffs. Ironically it was the same place he had stood with Sarah not but five years ago as they discussed the terms of her own bargain. Although the Goblin King did not like to acknowledge it there were times when he did wonder what had become if the mortal girl known to him as Sarah.

Meanwhile in another part of the tunnel system under the Labyrinth a dwarf sat entertaining an elf with tea. Hoggle didn't need to hear much of Lyta's story (What little of it she might have been whiling to tell) to figure out that the Elf had basically got herself into some trouble in her homeland which lead her to be dumped here. While the dwarf himself had never really traveled outside of the Labyrinth, Lyta wasn't the first refugee of her race to end up making house around the Goblin Kingdom.

"You know it might benefit you Miss Lyta, if ye be really serious about gain'n audience with Jareth and all, ter talk to the White Huntress. I ain't claiming ta be no good authority on the matter but seeing as yer an Elf and all...Meriel might be the best chance you'll get. I has it on reasonably good authority that if anyone can muscle you in to see His Majesty...she can." Hoggle paused a moment to think about that idea as he puffed on his pipe indulgently.

"Course that be assuming Meriel don't decide ter feed you to her various forest friends before ye formally get introduced...Heheheh." Hoggle pointed the tip of his pipe at Lyta whom he'd convinced to sit in the chair closest to the fire.

"Yous got to understand the White Huntress don't take too kindly to people she don't know poking around in her domain, but then again...she ain't exactly much different from you if ye get my drift." The dwarf wriggled his eyebrows at her.

"So she might be willing to make an exception with you as long as yous be respectful about it." Hoggle speculated.

Though it was hard to tell in the dim light of the room it appeared that points on the dwarfs face were turning red as if talking about the White Huntress embarrassed him a little. "I'll tells you what I'll do. Because I'm feeling particularly generous I'll take yous to the Enchanted Forest and you can have your grievances out with the White Huntress yourself. That be the best I's can do fer you."

Knowing that Lyta probably didn't care to much for his abode and also aware that he couldn't be wasting the entire rest of the day with her when there was other work to be done. Hoggle let the Elf finish her tea (that of which she was willing to drink that is) and instructed her to follow him as they made their way via the tunnels to come out in a safe enterance to the Enchanted forest rather then crossing through the marshland on the surface.

It was really just a matter of a dozen or so minutes to get from Hoggle's abode to the underground entrance leading into the main part of the enchanted forest. While he would have liked to introduce Lyta to Meriel himself the dwarf recognized that it was probably better to just let the to elves hash out an introduction themselves. Still, Hoggle thought it wise to give Lyta a few tips anyway before he left her to her own. Granted the Enchanted forest wasn't exactly safe but then again powers or no he knew Meriel would be quick to sense the new arrival particularly since she was more or less one of her own.

"Now Meriel be pretty easy to spot given she be in white and all. You shouldn't have much trouble finding her...in fact don't ye even worry bout finding her because she'll find YOU. That's fer shure! Now of you's keep to the open areas ye should more or less be safe enough. Whatevers you do DON'T go into the Fire Marsh. That be the Fire Gangs territory and even though Meriel's pretty good about keeping tabs on them I can't guarantee you'll still ave yer head by the time she gets to ya." Hmph.

At that Hoggle said his good byes and walked the opposite way. It would have been easier to just go back through the tunnel but the dwarf got the strange impression he'd be better off staying up on the surface for now. There was just something about the tunnels today that sent a chill down the dwarfs back.

----

**The Beginings of a Dream--Boston**

**A melody played at the edges of the void. Haunting and sad...and yet, decidedly resolved. Why was it that so many dreams always start or end with the sensation or metaphor of falling? **

_...makes no sense at all._

_Makes no sense to fall..._

_Falling,_

_Falling..._

_Falling in love._

**Through the humid warm darkness came a calm gentle feminine voice cutting through the melody and causing it to fade back as the voice beckoned her to wake, if only in her dreams, to follow it. The sound of wind through trees and the flutter of bird wings against her face filled the void urging Sarah to wake like a mother's gentle kiss awakened a sleeping babe to the new morn.**

_Sarah...Sarah...Wake up Sarah._

_Open your eyes my child and come to me._

_Come to me..._

_Sarah._

_There isn't much time to rest..._

Bright hazel eyes snapped opened as if awoken from a dream from the very beginning, watching in wonder as the silhouette of a bird left her. She wasn't waking from a dream but awakening into a dream that seemed incredibly like reality, so much so that Sarah's conscious believed she was in reality. How did she get in a forest? She couldn't even recall her happenings of the day or the tea reading with Selena. All that she was presently aware of was the mysteriously enchanting voice beckoning her.

She moved her feet upon the ground suddenly realizing her feet were bare as the sensation of dirt and grass tingled them. Where were her shoes? She looked down only to come to further realization that she was in a lovely off-white dress; fitting at the top with a round neck, flowing at the bottom down to her ankles, and decorated with a glitter of emerald green. Where'd this come from?

Unfortunately in dreams sometimes you didn't realize you were dreaming and Sarah didn't realize it. Actually she was walking forward towards that voice. She had never heard that voice before yet the sound made her insides warm, but the words, the words seemed hauntingly familiar. Was that a clue this wasn't going to be a good dream but a nightmare? She wasn't sure, all she was sure of was to find where that voice was coming from and her feet guided the way threw the growingly dense surroundings.

Deeper and deeper into the forest Sarah was lead with only the occasional sweeping of a bird's wings to indicate that she was going the right way. The forest was made up of great white birch trees that were considerably larger then average. But then again in the realm of ones dreams very few people noticed such discrepancies of size and location.

An owl screeched someplace just above and before her as the moon caught the sharp glint in the creature's eye before flying on a head to settle in a vast birch tree bigger then all the rest in the center of a round clearing where the full round moon cast down a purple haze across the night. It was there, settled in a large knot within the tree truck a strange and earth real woman settled in the notch of the tree as if she were a part of it herself.

She was draped from head to foot in a kind of iridescent fabric that was not exactly transparent yet not quite passably solid either. It just sort of glimmered and waved like moon beams on water and her robes were inlaid with what looked like archaic spirals of sliver thread. Miraculously the material managed to capture and reflect every beam of light in the clearing causing a sort of glittering effect.

Her hands were slim with long beautiful fingers encased in delicate looking open fingered gloves the color of baked earth that disappeared up under her sleeves. And her face was framed in a great white-blue cowl that hid the thick braid of sliver hair down her back. Upon her head was a large crown made of moon flowers, nuts, and birch limbs twined together. There at its center the headdress was finished with the symbol of a large crescent moon with its tips pointed up like a cradle. The figures arms were cross and in one had the woman held a golden apple and in the other a crystal orb. Strangely enough the woman resembled Selena and yet not.

"You have come, child. Of this I am very glad. Fore while you, my dear, may not need your old companions...they are in very great need of you, in their precious land." The strange fairy like woman naturally spoke is a sort of all knowing rhyme.

It…she was astonishingly beautiful. How could Sarah imagine such a creature? Or could she? Or was she imagining at all? Her eyes traveled over every sparkle, curve, carving, and dwelling creature on the tree and still it took her a moment to fully come to terms with what she was seeing.

And then after staring for what seemed like minutes Sarah finally spoke in a bewildered tone, "Old companions?" But then her eyes drifted to the owl perched contently on a branch. Honestly she had never been in the presence of something so beautiful, no creatures in her exploration through the Labyrinth she could compare to this fairy-like tree. Yes, there had been those fairies but that doesn't count.

Then it hit her like a brick in the face. Old companions? Old friends? "Hoggle!" She exclaimed her eyes widening in realization. "What's going on?" Her slender brows narrowed on the woman's face and even though she held a familiarity Sarah's entail wonder of the creature was now coming to caution. "Who are you?" she questioned in a tone bordering on demanding and yet remaining soft as if the young woman felt she needed to show respect in the birch tree's presence.

"It is fair to say I have many names, all be bright and true. Still I suppose, you deserve to know. I am the Good Mother, to you." The Good Mother tilted her head not unlike that of an inquisitive bird or a questioning muskrat in the grass. It seemed as the creature was the epitome of all things nocturnal and gracious in the night.

"Now I have a token of advice to give unto you, my dear. Keep it close and hold it tight, no matter what you hear. In all the worlds and all the lands, imagined and or real, there is a sliver thread of truth in every lie, and a price for every deal."

At that the moon woman smiled and a great wind suddenly came up to pull and pluck at the heavy tree limbs causing the branches to rustle. This uprooted the owl that screeched and took flight spinning around Sarah once as if to nip at her before disappearing to the right of the great tree. The screeching sound of the predator disturbed a sleeping muskrat curled near the trunk causing it to scurry down the other direction to the left.

This was all very distracting of course and when the wind finally calmed the figure in the notch of the tree was gone leaving a sort of fork between the two sides of the clearing.

Now came the age old question...Should Sarah go right down the path of the bird, or left to follow the mammal?

It was almost as though the moment she blinked her eyes everything turned to mayhem and the second she could gather herself the Good Mother was gone. Even though Sarah felt she didn't have enough time to fully register what the old birch's advice she at least committed it to memory. …there is a sliver thread of truth in every lie, and a price for every deal… She could take a good guess what that meant; in every lie there was a bit of truth and a price for every deal, that was self explanatory. Basically, don't take anything for granted. Hadn't she learned that lesson already? Or was this completely different?

Unfortunately she had no time to ask questions but was only left with a question. Left or right? Her gut feeling told her to go left where the muskrat ran off too but her heart was pulling towards the right. Owls held a deep meaning to Sarah. They were beautiful mysterious creatures but in her experience they were also deceitful. And no matter how much her mind lectured her not to move right she couldn't help where her feet lead her.

In truth who could really blame Sarah for going right? Human's by nature were often drawn to the less wise but more adventurous option when given a choice. Besides, real or not...This was Sarah's dream, wasn't it? Even if she didn't think it to be a fantasy surely there was nothing within a dream that could really harm the young woman. At least...that was the theory anyway.

As Sarah followed the grove of trees which formed a faint path through the woods the air began to warm considerably and the air seemed to thicken and become damp with humidity. It was quite a change when compared to the feel of the forest where the Good Mother had been. That place had been clear and fresh despite the biting feel of the wind. This place that the owl lead however was much more languid in feel. The colors were different as well. The white and black tones of the birch trees gave way to tawny oaks and where the Birches seemed to be in the very early stages of spring just after the frost left the ground this place was clearly making it's transition from summer to the still balmy conditions of fall. Many of the great oak leaves had begun their change from green to reds and gold tones.

It was in this atmosphere that the snowy white of the owl's feather took on a more bronze tone as bird feathers will often do in the changing of seasons. Flying on a head the barn owl settled upon a low branch of an oak tree. Beside it half stood half sat a tall blond man dressed in similar tones of the owl. With his back mostly turned to her. The sharp features of his face were in shadowed profile but there could be no mistaking who the face of the figure belonged to.

The figure of Jareth half sat with on leg upon a large boulder as he gently hummed the familiar ditty of the Ballroom from long ago and peered quietly, idly even, into a round crystal that was held loosely in his right hand. The Goblin king looked peaceful in his musing and was apparently completely unaware that Sarah was there.

Eyes bulged, brows rose, and mouth came agape easily described Sarah Williams' current demeanor. She should have expected it, she should have known the owl would deceive her and lead her to him, but she hadn't known…not consciously. Why was that? She should have been smarter then that. She had spent five years making sure the Goblin King didn't plague her thoughts and didn't cloud her mind with childish fantasies. She had become incredibly good at it, her thoughts only go to him in a sense of hate, memories that had either herself or her friends as the central protagonist, or day dreams which she had no control over.

But, she never thought about him, not in a conscious sense. Perhaps her subconscious thought of him everyday but she'd never acknowledge it. Why was she thinking about him? She never had a dream about, not in five years because she locked that away. She didn't want to remember him because deep down beneath all that hate there was something else that tore apart her insides and dreaming about him it hurt. No one could blame Sarah for having an…admiration for him, he was the Goblin King.

She was thinking too much. She only thought too much in her day dreams or her dreams which meant…was she dreaming? Was that why she had been so naïve as to follow the owl?

Suddenly the demeanor of shock burned from her features like a paper thrown to fire and replaced a look of great despise. She stayed put a few feet from Jareth perhaps a way to counter the fear from surfacing because this certainly wasn't turning out to be a dream about rainbows and unicorns.

Did he know she was there? If he didn't he'd know soon enough as Sarah spoke up in a steady demanding tone, "Get out of my head."

The figure of Jareth turned, if he was surprised to see the young woman the look was tempered with something else...pity perhaps. Mingled with a sort of ironic melancholy that was all his own. "I can't live within you, Sarah. I have no power over you. You said it yourself. And what is said is said...Have you forgotten already?" It was a straight up question. No condescension involved which was strange enough on its own.

"What do you really want from me, Sarah? I've done so much for you already and I asked so little in return." The Goblin King came off the rock and took a step towards her as if to further his point but seemed almost unwilling to get very close to her.

Sarah in a moment of bewilderment retracted a single foot as he stepped towards her but she didn't take the full step as if to prove she could still stand her ground but the escape was there if needed. The bewilderment only seemed to increase as her hazel eyes watched him steadily. He didn't look all that different from five years ago. Did Goblin King's age? If anything his hair grew out a bit more. But she was side tracking…she had to stay on topic.

First thing, if this was a dream and as Jareth had so conveniently explained he could never enter her dreams again, which was why she had been free of him for so long…he could only enter upon her permission. She certainly hadn't given him permission recently. Her lips pursed. This was déjà vu, they had had this conversation before and before she had answered him with a powerful monologue, but that wasn't going to help her now. She was older and more mature and she had to answer these questions like an adult because if she didn't she would never get anywhere.

"I want nothing from you," she stated trying to sound convincing more for herself then him. Her head canted to the side a sardonic smile creeping on her lips like a memory taking flight. "Generous? What have you done that was generous? I will though give you the benefit of the doubt for you did help me realize my true potential and that I could defeat you and save my brother."

Jareth looked as if he might say something more but was suddenly cut short of the impulse by booming thunder as it cracked in the distance. This caused the Goblin King to stiffen as a slightly worried expression came upon his face. "You need to go, it isn't safe in this place..." Thunder sounded again, closer this time and the warmth of the air began to recede back into something colder, something chilling. Perhaps this dream was going to be a nightmare after all!

Where they being watched? It was hard to say but there did seem to be something definitely wrong. Then again what wasn't wrong about this entire thing? "Turn around and follow the path back the way you came! DON'T stop at the great birch, it can't protect you." Jareth added quickly. "

Well? What are you still standing there for...I told you to go!" Jareth barked his attention torn from Sarah to the darkening sky. Jareth turned and placed the crystal he had been holding behind his back defensively as if he was worried something unpleasant might see it.

She didn't want to go, not after seeing him again after all this time, but, she wasn't really seeing him. This was a dream and that most likely wasn't the real Jareth. Reality or not something dangerous was coming and it was in her best interest to move onto the next scene. Sarah stared at the Goblin King for one more moment before turning on her heel and running off.

Following the path back the provided light from the moon seemed to be overcast by the growing clouds making it harder to see. Twigs that hadn't been there before started to reach out like fingers and began to tear at the bottom of her dress. Sarah picked up the pace feeling her heart beat fast in her chest.

What was going on? She could see the clearing where the birch tree was coming into view. Jareth told her not to stop there. She never had a reason to trust him before but this time she felt inclined. As she exited the path to the right her eyes caught sight of the old birch tree. A clash of lightening overhead illuminated its glistening bark in an unsettling way causing Sarah to not realize the fallen branch and managed to trip over it falling onto her side in the dirt.

Of course Sarah fell. Who wouldn't fall under the same circumstances? The ground however was not a place she wanted to be particularly near the great birch tree in the middle of a lightening storm. Yep, even in dreams trees were NOT the safest things during storms. It was just a universal truth. Of course between the wind picking up and the soft dampness of the ground which seemed to be turning ever so muddy...Correction, the ground wasn't just turning muddy it was literally sucking at her body and pulling it down. So much for getting up...

As if that wasn't scary enough there was a distinct sensation that something was coming for her! Something...Not good. It was clear that Jareth wasn't going to come to her rescue and the Good Mother seemed completely gone.

What was she to do? Who was there left to call for help?

Sarah could struggle and squirm all she wanted but it only made her sink further. Being on her hands and knees to begin with the mud was half way up to her chest and completely covering the lower portion of her arms and legs. Hair draped over her shoulder was becoming matted with dirt and the pretty white gown was turning an ugly brown. This was a dream and she couldn't get hurt in a dream but deep down she had the distinct feeling this wasn't an ordinary dream.

"Ugh," she exclaimed trying to thrash her arm free but only caused to splatter mud on her face. Obviously she wasn't going to get out of this mud pit herself and she certainly didn't want to face whatever was sending chills up her spine. Fear starting to suck away her courage along with the ground she called out over the strike of lightening, "Hoggle, help!"

Alas...If the dwarf had heard Sarah's plea he either could not or would not come to her aide this time. Down, down, down. The mud dragged the young woman. Sucking her into the very center of the earth itself. cold, crushing, and unforgiving. It seemed Sarah was indeed doomed to suffer an unspeakable fate. Same place above her a loud booming laugh broke across the sky. A rich earthy feminine laugh that was all together more frightening then the actual thunder and lightening sounding around her.

Then as Sarah sunk almost up to her nose an enormous flash of lightening hit, splitting the great birch of the Good Mother down to it's roots.

Never had Sarah been so scared for her life in a dream as she was now. Lord she hoped this was a dream and she wasn't going to die. No one was coming to help her…not even the one person she could always depend on was showing up. Her nose was about to be enveloped in mud when the lightening struck. Splitting the birch sent a crack into the ground like an earthquake splitting the ground as well as the mud pool. 

Sarah screamed as she felt her body released from the mud and fall. Luckily she had the right mind to grab the nearest thing which was one of the old birch's roots. She clung to the root as if it were a life saving rope and used all of her mental strength not to look down. Instead she tried cautiously adjusting her hands to try and pull herself up but all it did was loosen the root further from the earth. She hugged to it even tighter and yelled out again, "Somebody, help!"

None of her friends were coming to help her, no strangers, not even Jareth and she was a hundred percent sure that even though he'd have cruel intentions towards her he'd never try to kill her. At this point Sarah felt like all was lost. The sky overhead was cracking with a brilliant white light followed by bone shattering booms of thunder. The root she was secularly holding to was slowly beginning to come loose from the earth and before the young woman had a moment to think or have one of those 'your life flashing before your eyes' the root gave way, she screamed, and started to fall. It wasn't normal falling for a dream because it wasn't that slow motion, positive she was going to land on her feet falling, this was real falling; fast into a black abyss.


	6. The Kidnapping of a Dwarf

Completely unaware that he and Lady Ariadne's little conversation had been partially overheard by the spy Agnes, Jack quickly made his way through the tunnels of junk until he reached what he long ago deemed 'his territory'. This territory was really no more than a small corner of the underground Arid Flats, and mostly made up by Jack's residence.

This, 'residence' was a virtual ode to junk; a massive cave-like structure, made up of a mind-boggling amount of rubble and debris. It was, in essence, a bigger, better made version, of the structures made by the Junk People themselves...with that special, 'human touch of course'.

As one neared at the entrance of the structure, they were greeted with the rather unsavory sight of a row of Junk People's heads, long shrunken in on themselves and decomposed beyond recognition; skewered on random metal rods and planks of wood, for all passers by and would be intruders to clearly see. True enough, the now bodiless Junk People had attempted to take Jack's 'pretties' for their own, a long standing tradition of the Junk People, but not all of them. More than one of the heads had once belonged to those who Jack had considered friends; who had done nothing wrong beyond being near him when Lady Ariad had began her sweep of the Arid Flats. He'd shown them no mercy then, and even now continued to shame them by keeping their wretched heads as part of his 'collection'.

Walking through the gauntlet of heads without so much as a glance upwards, the Junkman entered into his patchwork home. This was done by moving a rather large and heavy wall off to the side, in much the same way that one might put a bolder in front of the opening of a cave. Of course, the 'door' was far too big or heavy for even a strong man to move, and impossible for a Junk Person. But with a brief glance, Jack moved the door without even touching it. It did not move quickly, but with a steady, precise sort of pace as the Junkman kept his gaze steadily on it, offering up a small amount of mental concentration to exercise his developed magical ability. Once he'd stepped inside the front foyer, he turned and moved it back into place. He never made any sort of motion with his hands the entire time, as he tended to find all of that flashy wizardry stuff a load of rubbish.

Inside, the structure was even more haphazard and assaulting on the eyes. Not only was the house made of junk, but there was junk everywhere one looked. Even the furniture was junk, in some sense or another. It was not only full to the seams with junk, but with a dazzling amount of valuables; both from this world and the Above. Jack had been a thief his entire life, and even now he continued his practices. But no longer was it about acquiring any sort of financial wealth, as that sort of thing was pretty irrelevant to him now, no...now it was simply about the act of stealing and acquiring as much as he could. In other words, you could call Jack "the Junkman" a serious kleptomaniac.

Throwing himself into a ratty recliner that looked like it might have traversed between worlds a few times before ending up as part of Jack's collection, the Junkman dug out a rumpled pack of cigarettes from his rumpled overcoat and lit one with from an equally rumpled looking pack of matches. A man had to keep a few vices from his former life, and besides...it wasn't as if the things were going to kill him now.

Casting a tired glance around the main chamber of the junk house, he inhaled deeply; mind wavering between the finer points of his conversation with Lady Ariadne and his up and coming opportunity to take a stab at The Goblin King...so to speak.

It was going to be glorious, watching Jareth go down. Even more so would be the glory to be had once His Gobliness was gone and out of the way. Ariad would take the throne for her own, that much was for sure. And he, unassuming, uncouth, Jack Basil would have his due. All of the scraping, and toiling, and toading and menial tasks would be a thing of the past. He'd be a man, no...a being to be respected. And Ariad, well...he could only hope she'd really see his real worth then and...and then...well...a man could only hope...

Frowning, Jack exhaled a thick stream of smoke. He'd like to think that the Lady didn't think him entirely daft. He knew the little game she was playing; give him just a bit to keep him going, as if he were some single minded dog slobbering for that morsel. That little maneuver at the conclusion of their meeting was a prime example. He cared for her...quite a bit. Although 'care' might not be the right word for it, but he was not so stupid to think that his affections were of boundless patience. He had time, he had a lot of time, and he wasn't about to waste it on an endeavor that would prove entirely unbeneficial to him. There were always other options.

Stabbing out the remnants of his cigarette into a nearby crate, Jack pulled himself out of the recliner, dumping his overcoat into it in the process. Loosening the hideous necktie around his neck, he made his way into the adjoining smaller chambers of the ramshackle house.

He was beat. He'd spent the majority of the night tending to Ariad's little burning hedge plot. While it had proved quite fun, it had taken its toll. Jack could stay up for days on end now with little problem, but it had been nearly four, and he was starting to feel the effects. Damn his human weaknesses; if not for them he wouldn't be in the position he is now.

Entering into a modestly sized bed chamber, Jack slumped down into the sagging bed; shoes and all. He'd never been one for PJ's and all of that decorum rot anyways. He only need a couple hours sleep besides. And once he awoke, there was more than enough for him to see to.

In the midst of his deep slumber, Jack awoke with a start.

For a few brief seconds his mind was awash with confusion, as many humans are apt to be when woken suddenly. But it didn't take the Junkman long to regain his right frame of mind. And with it, came the realization of what had woken him. Well, it wasn't a clear realization, but it was there; screaming at the edge of his mind; still powerful despite the fuzzy aura around it.

Before becoming what he was now, Jack had slept like the dead. But ever since he'd acquired his abilities, he'd developed a strange acute sense of awareness that often caused him to wake up at off hours, always with that feeling that something wasn't right in the world he'd grown accustomed to. He knew now that the world of the Labyrinth was not privy to the rules of the world Above; there was magic and their were things that remained completely unexplainable by rational human standards. And it was these odd things, these odd feelings that Jack had eventually come to know.

He knew them now as he sat up; a hand straying to his temple. What was it? Blast. It was always so frustrating when this happened. It was as if his slightly magical self was trying to tell his human mind something vital that something vital was happening and his human brain simply didn't know what to do with it.

"Oh sod it!" He snapped; dragging himself out of bed and trudging out of the junk bedroom into the junk living room, although it would take a discerning eye to tell much of the difference between the two. Rummaging through what appeared to be an endless pile of rumpled clothing, Jack produced a shabby looking overcoat, although at least this one was a far cry from the mustard colored one he'd shed onto the recliner before going to sleep.

Shrugging the sorry garment over his shoulders, the Junkman then proceeded to remove his front door via his usual method. He suspected some nearby problem with the Junk People perhaps. They'd been known to embark on random attacks on his house; apparently still brassed off over his little betrayal. No matter, he'd take care of them as he'd done the rest. Perhaps he'd even have a few trophies to add to his rather...decomposing array of lawn ornaments.

With a sleepy scowl, Jack moved the door back in place behind him and stalked into the heart of the tunnels and perhaps even the Arid Flats above.

---

Boy there was an awful lot of strange things happening today. Even for the Labyrinth the events in recent times seemed a little too much on the 'I Should Be Worried" side of things. It just seemed to the dwarf that there'd been a major influx of strangers like Ariadne and Lyta showing up lately, not to mention the unrest happening throughout the Labyrinth and perhaps even the entire underground itself. Nope Hoggle didn't like the looks of any of it. In fact he'd have to bring it up at to the Elder Council soon if things didn't improve. That also meant having a little talk with the Goblin King as well. Hoggle shuddered at the thought.

That was another thing. Jareth had been rather quiet recently. Normally his Majesty made a least a daily effort to insult Hoggle and boss the dwarf around. It was sort of like a ritual between them and as much as Hoggle hated it when Jareth decided to pay him an unexpected visit, he'd become accustom to it as well. As things currently stood it had been weeks since the Goblin King had personally taken it upon himself to make Hoggle's life miserable.

Was Jareth somehow losing his touch?

Hoggle took his time going the scenic way through the forest. Most of the regular creatures were familiar with him there and most were too wary of angering the White Huntress to bother him. Unlike Jareth, Hoggle had it in (so to speak) with Meriel, due to their mutual interests in maintaining the status quo of things around the Kingdom of course. Because of that friendship Hoggle could mostly walk un molested through the woods as long as he was mindful of where he stepped.

As the dwarf neared the area where part of the Labyrinth wall bisected the forest Hoggle couldn't help the growing uncomfortable feeling building in his gut. As formally stated the Dwarf had an amazing sense of when trouble was afoot and as he glanced around Hoggle noticed the forest had gotten particularly quiet all of a sudden.

It was important to remember that the Enchanted Forest was...more or less...Enchanted. If one wasn't careful about it, the forest had a way of doing things to the mind. It was said that people saw things there that were beyond explanation even for the Underground. A fact that largely made the Enchanted Forest in these parts appealing to wizards and other magically inclined folk.

Was he being watched?

That was certainly the distinct impression the dwarf got as the wind began to blow in an unverving fashion. "Oie. Me thinks somethin unsavory be going on around here..." Hoggle was starting to get scared. He was a coward after all, and Hoggle suddenly found himself wishing he'd had the foresight to carry his blade with him. Not that the dwarf was particularly good at sword fighting, mind you. Still a weapon would have certainly made him feel more secure at a time like this.

Hoggle suddenly thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye but when he turned around to look there was nothing. Just then, like a phantom in the night Hoggle could have sworn he heard his name called...As well as a request for help?

"Sarah?" The dwarf was instantly reminded of his good friend and a surge of fear shot through him as he stared into the woods. Torn between going back and reaching the safety of the maze Hoggle quickly made up his mind.

"I'm coming, Sarah!"

Spinning a moment Hoggle prepared to charge back into the woods but got less than two feet before a worn make shift pitch fork came flying out from the top of the wall to land in front of him blocking his way.

"Not so fast dwarf man!" Cackled a voice from over head up on the wall. It was easy to determine by the shaking of junk that Hoggle was in the middle of an ambush by none other then a small group of JUNK PEOPLE!

Sure enough it was Junk People all right. Two of them to be exact. When one considered that the creatures were four times their actual size due to the amount of rubbish they carried on their backs it was amazing they'd been able to sneak up on him unaware. However Junk People were experts at concealing themselves and because they usually moved quite slow, they could often times mask the sound of their various junk. Besides...it was obvious that the creatures had approached via the path along the top of the wall. Hoggle himself had used the same avenue to save Sarah from the attentions of the Wild Bunch years ago.

Hoggle spun around to glare up at the wall his mouth agape as it was somewhat shocking to see two unsavory creatures such as them ambushing him at a time like this.

"Hmph. and what do you heaps of trash want? You know it aint very friendly like to be throw'n things at people!" Hoggle was trying to distract the assailants long enough to figure out his best options. Due to their position on the wall it was useless to try and proceed that way and given the current nature of the woods it suddenly occurred to Hoggle that there was no guarantee Meriel was actually in residence today. As rare as it was for her to leave her domain even Meriel was known to have business in the Goblin City on occasion. Damn.

That only left the Fire Marsh. If Hoggle could make it through there maybe he could conceivably get Sir Didymus' attention. Surely the Labyrinth Knight would make short work the two Junk people despite his small stature. Besides…Hoggle wanted a witness. Someone who could confirm that Junk people were actually attacking folk outside of the Arid Flats.

---

Jack had followed his intuition, although intuition might not be the best word for it. Whatever it was, he followed the thing that had woken him up like a bloodhound on the scent. He wondered if perhaps this was a new ability he was beginning to develop, and that promising thought stayed with him as he made his way through the underground maze of junk and out onto the Arid Flats themselves.

There were the usual number of Junk People about, all of whom averted their gazes from him as he passed them by. How they hated, yet at the same time were forced to obey him. Jack much preferred the arrangement of things now. What did he care for the friendship of lower beings anyways?

Traveling across the Arid Flats was not very hospitable going, but Jack had long ago gotten used to the desert like conditions despite his less than brawny stature. When the troublesome piles of trash became too obnoxious of obstacles, the Junkman simply 'moved' them out of the way.

He had reached the northwest corner of the Arid Flats, with the Goblin City's unmistakable silhouette in sight, but still whatever had woken him up had not been abated. Squinting against the harsh sunlight and blowing sand, Jack regarded the city. Like hell he was going to go through it.

Muttering, he continued on his way, bypassing the fortified city on the left and heading towards the Fire Marsh and of course the Bog of Eternal Stench. Jack needed no 'intuition' to find his way to the Bog; a being missing all of its olfactory senses could find the bleedin' thing. With a grimace, and a whole new round of mutterings, Jack continued on towards the Fire Marsh.

After much catching of his overcoat on the thorny branches, and slipping in the mud, the Junkman emerged into a small clearing to see two Junk People; apparently looking down from their perch on a wall onto the lower ground. He couldn't see what was catching their attention on the other side of the wall. What in the hell was this?

Approaching like a man who had more than once punished the strange nomadic creatures; Jack wasted no time scrambling up the stone, swinging one leg over the wall and hoisting himself up next to the bundles of junk that did well in concealing the creatures carrying it. "Well then-" he began with a feral sneer, but his attention was quickly drawn down to the ground below.

Hoggle, that blasted dwarf. Ah, but wait, that blasted dwarf was in some demand at the moment...by a particular lady...to be exact. The dwarf looked in the midst of attempting a quick escape and Jack knew he couldn't let that happen.

"Hold it right there dwarf!" He called down from the wall; looking much taller than he really was with the added height of the structure and standing flanked by the two Junk People.

"Oh Gawd." Hoggle grumbled under his breath. As if things couldn't possibly get worse at this particular moment who else should appear? None other then Jack the "Junkman" Basil...just great. While Hoggle didn't exactly think the human to be entirely dangerous in the same sense that Jareth was, he was well aware that Jack had essentially turned his back on the people of the Arid Flats to play lackey to the harpy she-devil otherwise known as the witch Ariadne. Hoggle was also an excellent judge of character and it was quite obvious to him that the Junkman had a mean streak running through him that was far less disciplined and a hell of a lot more unnerving than the dwarf cared for.

To a point Hoggle might have been one to sympathize with Jack's position in the Labyrinth. After all he and the Junkman both served the will of great powers in the Labyrinth and both of them had good enough sense to more or less obey their masters...as long as it served them in some respect as well. Despite their seeming similarities the major difference between Hoggle and Jack, besides having any inner moral fiber, was the fact that Hoggle was satisfied with his lot in life and it seemed rather obvious that Jack wasn't. Regardless of how one wanted to analyze the dynamic motivations of the players involved, the point was; If Jack was sniffing around then Hoggle was in really big trouble because that meant Ariadne was directly responsible for this unexpected encounter.

If it had remained just the Junk people the dwarf MIGHT have stood a fighting chance. However if Jack intended to join in the fray there was absolutely no way Hoggle would be able to over power the man. Feeling desperate and vastly out numbered the dwarf did the only thing he could think of. With the make-shift pitch fork being the only weapon of defense available to him Hoggle grabbed for it and pointed it up at his assailants.

"I don't be want'n any trouble with you lot...I don't know nothin about no one, and I ain't done nothin to any of you! So if ye are looking for something specific you might as well forget about it!" These were brave words considering how terrified Hoggle was right at this moment. Maybe he could still make a try for the Marshlands.

Jack knew all too well that he and Hoggle were kindred spirits of sorts, and that bothered him to no end. Perhaps, under different circumstances they would have even been pals; two ungainly beings contending with the hand they'd been dealt in life. But alas, things were not so. Jack served one master and Hoggle another. Jack's morality was certainly worth questioning, and while Hoggle wasn't entirely to be trusted, he was a loyal and brave friend.

The Junkman folded his arms over his chest, a look of smug pity crossing his features as he continued to look down at the dwarf. "That, my small friend, has yet to be proven," Jack replied to Hoggle's ardent protests that he didn't want trouble nor did he know anything worth knowing "Besides, if my memory serves me right Hoggle, I do believe you've always had at least something worth knowing in that ugly head of yours..."

Jack turned his sleepy brown eyed gaze on the pitch fork in Hoggle's hand's; giving the would be weapon an intense look for a few seconds. In the midst of this, the pitchfork was suddenly ripped from the dwarf's hands; arcing a path through the air to Jack's own outstretched hand. It was rare that the Junkman had the chance to perform these types of smooth stunts and the satisfied smirk was evident on his face as he gave the rather pitiful looking pitchfork a flippant glance..

"Why thank you Hoggle," he began sarcastically; tilting his head to the side, "...I appreciate you giving me the one and only weapon at your disposal..." The implied insult was not meant to be vague, "...real kind of you old chap..." Flashing a smile that was far from enduring, Jack took a small sidestep and mercilessly poked the Junk Person to his left right in the rear end with the business end of the pitchfork, sending the creature face first over the wall and nearly on top of Hoggle. "Whoops," Jack quipped lazily, wasting little time in smacking the other Junk Person in the back with the blunt end of the weapon to join his comrade on the ground.

The two Junk People, weighed down by their heaps of strapped on junk, cursed and muttered venomously, as they attempted to get back to their feet. They might have been angry at Jack for the cruel little maneuver, but as they peered at Hoggle it was evident that they didn't exactly have friendly intentions towards the dwarf...and now they were right in front of him.

Still with that languid look on his face, Jack jumped down from the wall; landing with the clank and clatter of the myriad of junk stashed in his pockets, and perhaps with a bit less grace than he would have liked.

Dusting his hands off on his ratty overcoat, Jack regarded Hoggle almost apathetically; but that brimming quality of hostility and cruelty was evident beneath the surface. "Now Hoggle, let's not be so testy here. Perhaps a particular Lady might be interested in what you have to know, hrm? Trouble can be so easily avoided...with a little...cooperation of course."

"Hey! Knock that off!" The dwarf growled. Hoggle's fear was quickly dissolving into frustrated annoyance. What was it with large heavy creatures landing on him? This time Hoggle was quick enough to get out of the way before he got squashed. However now he found himself more or less surrounded.

"Aye and perhaps she'll hang me by me toes and then feed me to these heaps O' junk when I don't tell her what she wants te hear. Cor! Do I looks like an encyclopedia to you lot?!?" Hoggle kicked dirt at the two junk people with Jack there the dwarf could have cared less that the unsavory creatures were currently eye balling his precious pretties. Like the vultures they were.

"I suppose if I don't come along quietly your _Lady_ friend..." Hoggle almost had the urge to cackle and snort at the polite term for what Ariadne was. "...has given ye the go ahead to do something despicable to me ta get her way. What say you about that, Jack? Do ya have any drip O a conscious about that?"

It seemed to Hoggle that he wasn't going to have a lot of choice in the matter. If that witch Ariad wanted to talk to him then she would regardless of what he or anyone else said and did. What frightened the dwarf about Araidne was that he got the chilly feeling given half a chance she'd rather just snuff the poor dwarf out of existence once she was done with him rather than just take what she wanted and leave him be. As far as the acting powers in the Labyrinth went...Jareth might have been a cruel uncompassionate sort but he did draw the line at slaughtering people. The Goblin King had far more tactful, if still underhanded, ways of getting what he wanted and had little interest in getting blood on his hands. As for Ariadne, Hoggle was convinced that the witch would sooner destroy something that was of no use to her rather then keep it around to clutter up things.

Jack couldn't help but smile, although somewhat ruefully, at Hoggle; the dwarf was rather amusing, particularly when agitated.

The Junkman bent down a little; cocking an eyebrow, "I can't promise yeh one way or another if my...Lady friend...will hang you by your wee little toes and feed yer sorry carcass to these heaps O' junk or not, although that would be bloody amusing to watch I must say, but it would be wise to at least tell her something useful...not to mention true." Jack did love dispensing threats in the Lady's name, but even more so in his own name.

His smile dropped into a non-too-reassuring scowl "No, I wouldn't have a speck of conscious about doing something despicable to you Hoggle, best not to test me on that one chum..." Jack didn't have much in the way of patience for dwarfs; they reminded him too much of Junk People...damn annoying the entire lot of them. It was easy to forget one's place in the scheme of things when you were in a position of power.

Jack brandished the pitch fork as if the thing were no more than an afterthought before pointing the prong end right at Hoggle's eyes in a typically lazy threatening fashion. "Let's start our little march eh, gunna be past my supper by the time we get to the Tunnels the way you lot move on those stubs of yours...and I do get quite crabby if I miss supper..." The idea of marching Hoggle, along with two Junk People back across the Arid Flats held little appeal for him, but the thought of Ariad's sinister pleasure at seeing the dwarf brought to her most certainly did.

"Come on!" He grated at the stubborn dwarf. "I'll gladly poke those beady eyes of yours out if I don't see some forward movement here..."

"Fine. Have it your way." Hoggle snorted. Fearful that Jack would indeed hold true to his character and forcibly speed him along if he didn't get a good pace going, Hoggle spent the rest of their journey grumbling under his breath. Ironically the dwarf was actually willing to lead the way without even trying to misdirect them. Really even if Hoggle had wanted to mislead them Jack was probably just as knowledgeable about the tunnel system as he was, so there was really no point. Besides if Hoggle was being forced to contend with Ariadne he felt it was better to just get it over with. The question was what did she want to know?

Surely it had to be something about Jareth, no doubt. However that didn't actually narrow the possibilities down very far.

---

Meanwhile in Boston Sarah's nightmare was suddenly interrupted by a enthusiastic barrage of knocks could be heard on Sarah's bedroom door. After a few moments with no answer the door burst open and in ran a little boy with a mop of blond locks. "Sarah, wake up!" Toby shouted before tackling the young woman asleep on the bed.

Sarah bolted awake with a yell of surprise. What happened? Where was she? She had been falling…it was just a dream? Toby looked at his sister in a moment of confusion before mocking her yell with a childish giggle and said, "Dinner's ready silly!" He jumped off the bed and ran out of her room continuing to mock her yell in an obnoxious squeal that faded down the hallway.

Left alone sitting up in her bed with wide bewildered hazel eyes Sarah felt like a stone had been lifted from her shoulders but placed back down on her stomach. She felt relieved it had been only a dream but at the same time the realness of it made her uneasy. Raking a hand threw brown locks she inhaled a deep breath and started to shuffle off the bed. She needed to get herself together. She stood up and made slow disembodied steps towards the open door. Her eyes glimpsed to her reflection in the vanity mirror and she couldn't help that her jaw came unhinged. Was that mud on her cheek? Her heart feeling like it stopped in mid beat she rose a hand to rub it off but when she bought her hand back down to look at the dirt smudges on her fingers they were clean. She looked back at the mirror and there was no sign of dirt of any kind.

"Sarah!?"

Staring perplexed at her fingers she tried to mouth out the words to respond. "Yes….yeah…I'm coming!" Lowering her hand she hesitantly turning from the vanity, decided it wasn't worth lingering on right then, and walked downstairs for dinner.


	7. Presents Are Divine

Left alone to her own devices Ariadne's nails tapped a staccato rhythm upon her throne as she considered the next stage of her great plan. The trick of her scheme did not lay so much in the taking of the castle, although that was the greater ambition as time went on. The heart of her current plans was to effectively put the Goblin King out of commission long enough to utterly destroy any credibility he currently had as ruler of the Labyrinth. While Ariad was not above taking things by force she was well aware that sometimes the easiest way to get what one wanted was to play using the current rules at hand. Never mind that she intended to take gross advantage of the standing nature of the game. Winning by way of minor technicalities, after all, was still binding in the world of the Underground. Never mind if her tactics weren't exactly fair.

Ariadne's callous musings were interrupted as her refined ear caught the sound of Junk People and scraping feet on dirt. My my. Was it nearly dusk already? Naturally Ariadne was quite aware of the limited time she had to extract the information she wanted from the dwarf but then again she only wanted to know one tiny little detail before their meeting with Jareth occurred. Any other nuggets of information Ariadne could squeeze out of the hog faced gritty little worm of a gentleman, otherwise know as Hoggle, was icing on the proverbial cake.

Jack spent the majority of the trek across the Arid Flats in silence. After sometime he even disposed of the pitchfork, as Hoggle seemed quite on his way at this point and smart enough to not try anything stupid. The two Junk People followed; waddling along under their piles of junk and muttering to one another in a disgruntled voices and keeping their distance from both Jack and the dwarf.

The Junkman kept a wary eye on Hoggle, but he let his mind wander during the walk, not wanting to get caught in some inane conversation with the dwarf; as tempting as that was. Hoggle, for his part, seemed to return the favor.

Thus, it was some relief to enter the Tunnels, knowing that the end of the journey was near. Jack had no problem navigating the maze-like Tunnels, and at a few points clamped a warning hand on Hoggle's nubby head, as if to remind him that he'd best be on his...better behavior.

It didn't take long to find the Lady's larger chamber of junk. Obviously she'd heard and sensed them coming, so Jack wasted no time making some sort of redundant introduction; instead he gave Hoggle a sharp little shove towards Ariad's makeshift throne. "He cooperated brilliantly Lady," the Junkman offered, sounding almost disappointed. "And, I believe he will cooperate further," he added, this time with no less than a blatant threat in his tone. Folding his arms over his chest, Jack regarded Ariad with his usual sort of languid, but nauseatingly admiring demeanor. He was not expecting much in the way of favor for his task, but he knew she had to be pleased to have had the dwarf brought to her just as she'd ordered...and before sunset to boot!

"Ah, Jack. You've brought me a present I see. As usual your timing is quite excellent. Junk people are so seldom reliable these days." The dark lady drawled.

"As for you my little man; how kind of you to grace use with your presence. Now shall we get down to business?" Ariadne was all politeness and charm but it was obvious to anyone with even a smidgen of sense that a dangerous maniacal edge awaited just under the surface of her pleasant tone. The time was nearly at hand.

"Tell me, Hoggle is it?" Ariadne didn't bother to wait for the dwarf to confirm his name. "Just how does Jareth produce those lovely little crystals he enjoys playing with so much?" Naturally being well versed in magical applications Ariadne already had a competent understanding of what allowed Jareth his versatile use of crystals in his magical work. However there was a specific detail regarding how Jareth went about materializing the crystals themselves that interested the witch.

Ariad leaned forward in her chair and rested her chin on one crossed arm. For all appearances she looked tranquil but if one was paying particular attention they would have noticed the steady tapping of the Lady's foot at the base of the throne. This was a clear indication that if Hoggle wasn't careful to be forthright in his response the witch was liable to loose her patience with him.

_So that be yer game ye horrible hag_. Hoggle thought to himself darkly. If there was one thing the Dwarf hated it was false respect. At least when Jareth wanted something from him the Goblin King was true to his character about getting it. Being openly patronized by Jareth might have been annoying, even frightening at times, but it was honest. While Hoggle was quite aware just how careful he would have to tread at this moment he was just as skilled as Araidne was at feigning an accommodating persona.

"Cor. Is that what all this be about?" Hoggle waved his hand idly at her. "Well Your Ladyship there weren't any cause te pull ol' me away for THAT bit O' information. But, huh, seeing as I'm here and all..." Hoggle was trying to figure out how he could offer forth a satisfactory answer without actually _**telling**_ Ariadne anything that she could really use.

"As for Jareth, Ma'am. I don't think anyone rightfully knows how _he_ does ANYTHING." Hoggle replied with a snort.

Ariadne teeth ground ever so slightly upon hearing the dwarfs response. She really hadn't wanted to resort to violence but then again the tried and true methodes we always the most practical at times like these. "I see."

The lady had moved back into full attention and was now sitting up a little too straight upon her throne. The better that Ariadne's posture was while seated, the less genial she was liable to be and at that very moment Ariadne looked poised enough to skin a cat alive with her teeth.

"Well Jack..." The witch said testily. Her words were sharp and fast again which meant she was annoyed. "Obviously our friend here has no further information for us. My my, such a shame. I was so hoping he'd have more to say on the matter...but never a mind. You know Jack, I don't think I've ever told you of my fondness for plastic beads. It's so hard to find more modern materials in the Underground these day and I do so enjoy the lovely durability of plastic Jewelry particularly since it's so rare to find..." A frightening smile appeared once again upon the Lady's lovely face.

Damn. Hoggle thought quickly as the urge to take a step back overwhelmed his flight over fight instincts. The dwarf audiably swollowed when he heard Ariadne mention plastic beads. Had she perhaps seen Sarah's bracelet upon his wrist? Even if she hadn't the mentioning of plastic was uncanny and the dwarf quickly put both hands behind his back as if to keep his most prized posession out of her reach. Hoggle would willingly go to hell before he let this witch get her claws on aything that had once belonged to Sarah.

"huh. Right..." The dwarf said lightly shuffling his feet. "Yes. Well! If that be all I suppose I'll just be heading on home now...lots O' work te do...ye know how it is.." Hoogle chuckled nervously as he did infact take a step backwards towards the exit.

"Oh no no no. We couldn't possibly let you leave that quickly. Seize him Jack, and since the dwarf is of no further use to me as he has already avidly claimed...strip him of his pretties and detain him some place untill we can conclude our business with his Majesty."

Ariadne knew full well the dwarf had a reasonably good idea of what she wanted to know. If polite inquiry didn't work perhaps a little bit more hands on persuasion was required to scare him into being a tad more forth coming.

Jack stood back from Hoggle as the dwarf had his audience with Ariad; leaning a shoulder up against the entryway of the room with typical casual flair, arms crossed, a hand straying to scratch at the stubble on his chin now and then. He appeared uninterested and rather off guard, but in fact he was paying extremely close attention and quite ready to snatch the dwarf should he attempt to make a foolish escape. He'd played this role many times for the Lady, and he played it very well indeed.

The Junkman offered a snort at Hoggle's vain attempt at ignorance. The act probably would have worked on many others, but not in this room. Jack didn't think particularly highly of the dwarf, but he did not underestimate Hoggle's cleverness. Ariad had been wise to snatch him up for information, he knew a lot, but getting it out of him was obviously going to be no easy task.

"Plastic beads my Lady?" Jack replied; brows arching as he played smoothly along with her. "Why, no...I don't believe you've ever told me of this particular fondness...how very interesting." Of course, Jack would have brought her hundreds of thousands of plastic beads had that been the truth; and he would even have had the foresight enough not to mention that such things were favored by children and cheap tarts up in the Above.

Jack's gaze flickered to the dwarf's wrists as Hoggle quickly wrapped them around his back upon hearing Ariad's 'fondness' for such a thing. A childish looking plastic bracelet marked itself amongst the dwarf's other adornments. Saying nothing, but flashing a smirk, the Junkman remained were he was; that was until Ariad ordered him to intervene in the situation. "Gladly my Lady," he muttered with satisfaction.

"Chatty time's over old boy," Jack snapped; taking a surprisingly quick step forward and snatching Hobble by the frayed hem of his shirt and bodily dragging him backwards. "'I've got just the place in mind for you chum, and once we get you all nestled in and cozy like...I think I'll take a look at your assortment of lovely pretties..."

As he drug Hoggle off, Jack lifted his gaze to offer Ariad a dark smile.

Ariadne ticked her tongue as Hoggle was being dragged from the large room. "Such a shame..." It was clear that the dwarf was far too wise on Ariadne for her to effectively question him herself. Such was the price of having presence of being. She was however deeply certain that at the hands of Jack the dwarf would be far more willing to speak candidly when one considered the two gentleman were on more equal footing and that Hoggle was more afraid of what Jack WOULD do to him rather then what he knew Araidne COULD do instead.

If necessary Ariad supposed she could always have Jack guess where the Goblin King was most vulnerable. The draw back there being that if Jack didn't know where to strike Jareth he could either kill the Goblin King outright or risk the chance of Jareth retaliating. Both scenarios were HIGHLY undesirable. At this point it would be mostly impossible to strip Jareth of his magical abilities, that however didn't mean he couldn't be maimed to the point of making those abilities VERY difficult to effectively operate.

At any rate, Ariadne was running out of time. Lucky for her, plans could always be adapted to fit her needs. Hopefully Jack would alleviate the problem for her by finding out what she needed to know.

---

Sometime later, and further into the scattered and darker depths of the tunnels, Jack stood in front of what appeared to be a makeshift cell, and in fact that was just what it was.

The cell itself had been there for sometime, used quite often during Ariad's initial take over of the Arid Flats, it had been inhabited by a number of Junk People in those days, most of whom were no longer living. Ironically, and Jack did love this, the cell was constructed of junk. Although that should come as little surprise given the nature of the Tunnels themselves. And although it looked just as haphazard as the rest of the junk structures, it was quite well built and sturdy. There were no bars, but a series of small square shaped openings in the front side; the rest of the sides were fully closed and literally attached to the surrounding junk walls with surprise, even more junk.

Jack stood facing the wall with the openings, but his attention was on the ground in front of him, where Hoggle's 'pretties' were spread out in a neat line of inspection; silly trinkets and baubles most of them. But Jack wasn't called "The Junkman" for nothing, he knew his junk, and more importantly his pretties.

Crouching down on his heels, Jack began a swift and adept inspection of the pretties; holding each one up, turning it over, even giving a few of them a bite between his teeth to test some sort of supposed validity. "My, my Hoggle," he mused as he went about his business, "...this is a whole bloody lot of trash you've accumulated here..." Then again, Jack wasn't one to talk, and his interest in the items couldn't be denied.

At the end of the row of pretties was the plastic beaded bracelet that had caught his and obviously Ariad's attention earlier. It was by no accident that Jack had left that one for the last. And so it came as no surprise that he paused rather dramatically when he reached the plastic bracelet; picking it up preciously between forefinger and thumb and holding it up so that Hoggle, at his cell 'windows' could clearly see it. "Ah but this, this is a special type of pretty isn't it Hoggle?" Jack wheedled with a wry grin. "You would trade this for all your pretties now wouldn't you?" Jack's gaze danced between the bracelet and Hoggle's face with a sadistic sort of pleasure. "Hrm yes, I do think,...and this is just an educated guess of course, that this lovely little pretty once belonged to a lovely little girl didn't it?"

The Junkman shook his head in pity, still dangling the bracelet. "How silly, what we do for girls...what we hang on to, to remember them eh? Silly indeed, that they tend to go on with their own vapid lives without us hrm? It's so easy to forget us ungainly types isn't it Hoggle?" There was at least a slight bit of understanding behind those words, but then in an instant Jack turned cruel.

He snatched the bracelet up into his palm and made a sharp move towards the small cell windows. 'Spill it Hoggle!" He hissed; baring his teeth. "Or I swear I'll tear this piece of trash to bits and spread the beads around every corner of this blasted Kingdom!" For emphasis he produced the bracelet again and gave ti a nasty yank in two separate directions.

"Arrrrgh! All right! All right!" Hoggle shouted miserably. "Not that it be any O your business or nuthin buts maybe I do know a thing er two about His Majesty. So what? It ain't as if it's going to help ye any...Cor. You lot are acting as if y'are intending to take over the castle. Well I tell you one thing to that end...getting rid O Jareth won't help you achieve what ye really want Jack Basil despite the satisfaction I suspect you intend te get out of besting His Majesty. As soon as that she-devil Ariadne gets her claws on the Labyrinth's power you can bet your an my life'll be over. I did what I did befores because Sarah was me friend...probably the only REAL friend I ever had up te that point. AND she still be my best friend to this day which is a hell O' a lot more then YOU can probably say about that harpy woman ye be serve'n back there."

" I's don't really see what you're all tight about anyways. It weren't like anyone round here did anything nasty te you...You and that rat Jareth er enough O' like to give me a stomach ache." The dwarf muttered under his breath huffily.

"What you be wanting from me anyways? How does that witch in there THINK Jareth does his tricks? O wave of the hand and presto! Simple as that. I'm just O dwarf I dunno how it works...the important thing is that it does!" The dwarf spat.

Hoggle watched in horror as the Junkman virtually destroyed Sarah's bracelet right before his very eyes. "You really are a right cruel bastard Jack..." Hoggle muttered sullenly in low tone.

Hoggle snorted. "Anyone with eyes can tell which hand His majesty prefers. If ye watch him enough ye learn that most of his bite come from his right side. Likes I already said a wave O' the hand and presto."

"Go ahead take the whole lot of it. No matter what I tell ya, ye'll probly do it anyways..." At this the dwarf sighed and plopped himself down on the ground, It appeared the Hoggle had finally had quite enough of the whole ordeal. "You want te hurt Jareth it's as simple as hitting em in the right place...assume'n ye can even get close enough te do that."

"Do save your compliments Hoggle, flattery will get you nowhere," Jack replied dryly; utterly dismissing the broken bracelet scattered on the ground now that it had served its purpose.

Ah, but yes, things were now getting somewhere. The Junkman listened intently as the dwarf offered, finally, a bit of useful information. Of course, it made sense; although it didn't entirely solve the whole mystery of 'how' the Goblin King produced the crystals, it did provide him, and in turn Ariad, a clue as to exactly where Jareth's vulnerable spot was.

"Never you mind the getting close bit, that'll be taken care of," Jack muttered; crouching down next to the window again so he could see Hoggle seated on the ground in miserable defeat. Jack propped an elbow on the little window's edge, his usual casual demeanor back in full form now that things had taken a turn for the better. He flashed a snarky half smile. "Keep talkin' little man...you're on a roll, as we say in the Above and besides, you're less likely to end up a lawn ornament in front of my home the more useful talk I hear out of you..."

"I ain'ts got it in me te tell you nothing else. Besides I'm willing te bet Is already said enough as it is. Jareth'll have me throat for sure assume'n ye and that witch don't save em the trouble." The dwarf snorted again as he crossed his arms and grumbled to himself.

"Mark my words Jack I knows His Majesty better then anyone in this here Labyrinth and maybes anywhere else. Ye kick Jareth when he's down and you'll be liable to lose alot more then ye bargained for if he ever gets himself back up. They're aint no such thing as a free shot round here. But I ain't gunna say no more. Do what ye might to me..." To this end the dwarf was resolved as refused to say anymore nor even look at the Junkman.

"Save the advice dwarf," Jack shot back testily. But all in all, he was happy enough to have at least gotten what he had out of Hoggle. If Ariad wanted more from him, she could damn well interrogate the stubborn pain in the ass herself; and Hoggle wouldn't even know what hit him when she got her claws into him. Actually, Jack found that thought rather appealing, now that he'd conjured it up in his mind. Perhaps he should hold back some information worth being interrogated for...

Pulling himself out of that rather...lurid musing, the Junkman stood; offering Hoggle a satisfied smirk. "Right, well...we'll see if your little confessional was enough for the Lady's liking or not...no promises mate, she's a fickle one." He looked down at the ground; kicking at the stray plastic beads still littering the area. "In the meantime, you enjoy your cozy little home there, and if you have the time, hah, you might consider what it'll be like to be torn to shreds by a pack of Junk People...," Jack shrugged; obviously playing it all up, "Eh, who knows maybe we'll just leave you there to rot...might be a better option..."

With those parting words, Jack turned and strolled out of the small corner chamber. He traversed the maze of tunnels to Ariad's chamber with a sense of accomplishment. No, it hadn't been all that much, but he'd learned to savor even the small victories in this world.

---

He found the Lady at her usual place; appearing as icy calm and still as ever. "The braggart talked," he stated dryly; stopping a few feet from her makeshift throne. "It's not much my Lady, but I think it will give us the upper hand..." Jack then proceeded to tell Ariad the extent of Hoggle's useful given information regarding Jareth's weakness. "It's his right side...always has been...," he concluded with a hint of self blame, "...I should have noticed it all along..."

Ariadne's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as jack relayed the information provided to him by the now detained and miserable Hoggle. That being said the dark Lady's expression remained unchanged making it impossible to tell if she was actually displeased with Jack's oversight or not. "It is enough Jack. Of THAT I am quite sure."

Ariadne's eyes narrowed even further as her hands clenched into tight fists once more before she automatically released them and stood. "Come we must haste! I want to arrive on the bluff first. It would be...most unbecoming...to be late to our own party. We must make with our plans immediately! The time is at hand. Ha ha!"

Ariad clapped her hands together sharply and as if on cue a tall (or taller then the average for a junk person) came forth. There was an almost Chinese look about the creature's features and it was indeed wearing a trash can lid for a hat adding to the effect. The junk persons height and shine to his junk indicated the creature had more status then most of the rest and the various bottles and colorful jars was a clear indication that the creatures chief obsession was magically related.

"Go and prepare yourself Jack, fore this is your time more than my own. It would not do to have that fool Jareth catch us unaware." The junk person bowed to Ariadne and offered her forth one of his many potions for her to take from him.

"Oh and Jack...one more little detail before you go." Ariadne paused as a wicked smile curled upon her lips. "If by chance you happen to fail in your endeavor upon the bluff with our dear Goblin King...I can simply not be responsible should he decide to kill you out of retaliation. While Jareth does not have the taste for blood I do so admire in a being such as he and myself, he is not above striking his enemies down in vicious...vicious...manners." At that statement Ariad dismissed him so that Jack could get into proper position out of sight upon the bluff before either of them arrived.

It was hard to say if Ariadne's perspective of Jareth was accurate. But even if the Goblin King proved to be not quite the unsavory character the Lady painted him as, there could be no doubt that the definition of vicious DID greatly apply to her own twisted grasping nature.

Ariadne's chilly and unsettling reaction to the information that Jack had extruded out of the dwarf was unexpected...and yet it most certainly wasn't. The Junkman should have known to expect something like this; she was pleased, but she was also ruthless. Her plans were falling into place, and there was little time to waste.

Jack stood with a prominent frown on his face as the taller, Chinese inspired, Junk Person came lumbering by to the Lady's side; his bottles rattling. To Ariad's suggestion to prepare, Jack nodded dully; turning to leave the room with something of a lacking enthusiasm.

When she spoke up again, he arched a brow as he looked at her over his shoulder. The threat in her tone was not to be missed; nor was the devious sort of amusement she was getting out of it. "I wouldn't expect any less of you my Lady," Jack replied coldly, "...nor Jareth. The prospect of death does not frighten me..." With that, he left the room.

Jack spent less time than one would expect preparing. He wasn't a very nervous or methodical man by nature; things happened, and he knew what he was capable of. On the prospect of dying by Jareth's hands, it was true he wasn't really frightened...but he didn't exactly cherish the thought either. Being dead would be the only solace to be had if he was bested by the Goblin King; he wouldn't want to face the humiliation...nor Ariad's disappointment for that matter.

Jack had lived far longer than a human being was intended to, and with that sort of jaded foresight, one began to grow a little excited at the prospect of even a possible death; it was something new...something he hadn't experienced yet. Now, that certainly didn't mean he was about to welcome it with open arms...

Smoking habitually in the chaos that was his living room, the Junkman sat in a sort of meditative silence; casually moving large items of furniture around the room just to get a little loose with his thoughts. He then spent a few moments looking at himself in the oddly shaped mirror on his wall; considering if possibly going to his death unshaven and bedraggled was a bad thing or not. Deciding that it would be grossly out of character to appear otherwise, he shrugged on a craggy looking leather jacket, tore off his necktie and left his home in the fading light of dusk...possibly for the last time.

The designated bluff was not too far away, and Jack reached it before any others...as was planned. Crouching down behind a rough outcropping of rocks on the higher ground, he waited; keenly scoping out the area for his soon-to-be weapons against the great and mighty Jareth.

---

Hoggle was feeling right sorry for himself as he rotted away in the cell of Junk back in the tunnels. Getting his jewels taken away was one thing but watching Jack destroy the only gift he'd ever gotten from someone in his life was infinitely worse. "I'm sorry, Sarah. Buts I dinta know what else te do..." The dwarf muttered miserably to himself.

Hoggle couldn't help but feel as if something horrible was happening somewhere in the Labyrinth and that it was all his fault. "Damn that Jack! Damn that witch Ariadne! And...damn me, too!" Hoggle whimpered as he glanced over at the spot Jack had allowed the plastic bead to drop. hoggle had half a mind to try and reach through the bars of his prison to collect the broken bits of Sarah bracelet but he already new he was to far away.

"If only Sarah were here. She'd know what te do." Hoggle lamented.

It didn't take long for whispers of Hoggle's capture and detainment to spread among some of the more brazen Junk People. In general most were wise enough to keep the information quietly to themselves for fear of Jack or Ariadne putting their heads on stakes is retaliation of their loose tongues. Still for those who listened for such interesting information the tidbit was indeed intriguing.

"So that stuffy little dwarf man finally got what was coming to him. Serves him right too! Doesn't know what's good fer him! But Agnes knows!" The junk woman cackled darkly to herself as she made a slow trek to go pay a little visit to the prisoner himself.

Hoggle was just starting to doze off into a moderately depressed, (what else better was there to do after all?) when he heard the tell tale sound of pots rattling. Great the poor dwarf wasn't even going to have the privilege of a decent nap because the blasted junk people were more active in the late even hours.

"Awrrr, go away! Fer cripes sake don't Is deserve any common curtsey round here..." Hoggled grumbled as he huddled against the nearest junk wall.

"Complain, complain, complain, that all your ever good fer, that's for sure. Ha!" Crooned Agness the Junk Lady as she maneuvered her way near the bars to glare at Hoggle through the slots. "Right nasty predicament ya got yer self into here, eh Sonny?"

Agnes cackled where she stood causing her junk to clatter.

"Shut up, you. If it aint bad enough I'm stuck in this pit, I don't need a lecture from you thanks. Don't ye have some trash heap te be picking through?" Hoggle muttered indignantly.

"Well if yer going to take THAT attitude with old Agnes then you can forget about me doing YOU any favors..." The junk woman said huffily a she began to turn away. "Ungrateful old git. I come all the way over here to help that pimple nosed fart out and he throws it back in Old Agnes' face. Servers him right to sit there and ROT!"

Hoggle's eyes went wide as he realized Anges had actually been serious about doing him some good and instantly began to back track. "Wait! Wait, I'm sorry! Don't leave me here for THEM ta get me!" Hoggle wasn't above many things, and was perfectly willing to engage in begging when it came to preserving his miserable insignificant life.

"Ah now THAT's more like it..." Agnes grinned slyly and turned back to peer at the dwarf.

"So what'll it take fer you to spring me from this joint?" Hoggle asked tactfully as he got to his feet and came to the bars.

"Sorry dwarf man. Agnes knows better than to stick her nose too far in where it don't belong. But a...I suppose if ye had something to exchange I could certainly consider passing yer where abouts on to someone who could spring you from that there cage..." Junk people were all about bargain hunting. Agnes would have likely passed the information on to someone regardless but if she got something personal out of the deal to add to her personal collection of junk then all the better.

Hoggle narrowed his eyes as the shrewd Junk Woman as he considered his options. As it currently stood Jack had stripped him of all his valuables and the dwarf knew better then to suggest that Agnes take something back from jacks haul. Then something occurred to him. There were always the plastic beads to barter with. Hoggle figured Jack would have no real interest in the broken bits of Sarah's bracelet and now that it was pretty much destroyed there was no point in Hoggle keeping it.

"Er...how do ye feel about beads Agnes?" Hoogle inquired carefully.

"Hmmm. I suppose that depends on what kind ye be talking about. Why you thinking of making a trade?" Agnes replied suspiciously.

"Maybe so. It just so happens that I know where to find some top notch PLAA-SSSST-ICK beauties right from the Above. If ye be willing to go fetch me some help ye can have the whole lot of em." Hoggle offered.

"What color?" the question seemed unorthodox given that Junk People usually weren't that picky but Agnes was a top notch bargain hunter never the less.

"Erum..." Hoggle struggled to think up something more creative to capture Agnes interest and failed opting instead to just be straight about it with her. "Pink."

"Well why didn't you just say that to begin with!?! You've got yourself a trade. Just point em out and I'll be on my way.

Hoggle stared at Agnes slack jawed before recovering as he pointed out where the beads had been scattered in the dirt. Agnes made something of a show picking them all up but in a matt3er of minutes the Junk Woman had collected up her toll and was carefully making her way out into the maze. Cackling all the way.

"Oh God I can't believe I'm relying on a JUNKLADY te save my sorry hide." Hoggle was as good as lost as far as the dwarf was concerned and settled back against the wall to contemplate his fate.


	8. Jareth's Fall From Grace

As Ariadne took her position a short time later upon the Bluff her apparent transformation was startling to anyone who was familiar with her more common hard and powerful appearance. The long straight auburn hair Ariadne normal sported had given way to a much more subdued blond color and fell in gentle waves rather than harsh straight lines down her back and along the sides of her face. Her features had also been wiped completely clean of any cosmetics and had a definite peaches and cream tone to it. But what was most startling of all about her change in appearance was the fact that her symbolic form fitting gold leaf Elizabethan dress had been replaced by a modest white gown that reached almost entirely to the ground and that graciously wrapped about the neck and shoulders. The entire collective look made Ariadne look damn well virginal and a good fifteen years younger then she normally appeared. She even had a look of modest humility on her face which, to anyone who knew the Lady for what she really was, would have been utterly comical as she stood like a priestess of Delphi. Humble, beautiful, and enigmatic upon the Great Bluff that over looked the Labyrinth and the distant castle beyond the Goblin City.

Jack had only been waiting at his hiding spot high on the bluff for a short time when he caught the soft and heavenly visage of Lady Ariadne a bit below him.

Involuntarily his breath caught in his throat as he peered around the outcropping of rock; his hair sticking out further than perhaps was safe at the moment. The Lady not only looked utterly splendid and beautiful in her current virginal state...she looked so out of character that the Junkman had to stifle a jaded laugh that threatened to be louder than he would have liked. What a load of bullocks this was! Oh, she was damn stunning all right, but the whole thing seemed so full of dry irony that some of the effect was quickly lost on him. Then again, the change wasn't for him, it was Jareth.

"Bloody bastard," Jack muttered; crouching back down behind the rocks; itching to crush the Goblin King with the nearest heavy object he could throw at him. But no, he couldn't let his oh-oh-human emotions get the best of him If he was going to succeed he had to take a page from Ariad's book and play it cool.

It seemed that Araidne and Jareth's encounter was indeed destined to drip with the sharp metallic taste of theatrical irony fore not but ten feet away a barn owl landed to perch itself on a rotting stump before transforming rather splendidly into a formidable looking Jareth. Like Ariadne, Jareth seemed to be dressed for business in full black armored garb that might have made him look strangely like a more lithe Darth Vader had it not been for the fact that has face was being obstructed by a matting of wild main like hair rather than a face mask.

Jareth did not look pleased to see the lady. In fact he looked damn near old and worn in comparison to her youthful and innocent facade. It was amazing when one thought about it how the two powerful sorcerers mirrored each other upon the Bluff and suddenly for those who knew better it became blaringly clear in this moment that many things were never what they seemed to be on the surface...Or were they? It was difficult to say.

"So shall we get this over with?" Jareth said with a slight grunt. "I would like to conclude this rendezvous before the setting of the second sun is complete if you would be so kind. Not that I believe for a wit that _**kindness**_ is even in your present vocabulary, Ariadne." That was the Goblin King for you. Always the charming gentleman...If the gentleman in question was a venomous snake.

Ariadne simply nodded serenely at Jareth's request and seemed utterly inclined to ignore his hostility towards her. "Of course, my Lord. There should be no reason this meeting need last beyond the setting of the second sun I assure you. As for the business at hand...As you know when I came to your Kingdom, I came to lay claim on the behalf of my people. It is perilous the way the people of the Arid Flats are being treated..." Ariad actually managed to look distressed by her last statement.

_**My my. Aren't we dramatic**_ Jareth thought sharply to himself and he watched Ariadne with silted eyes while she characterized her proposal. "Might I _reminded_ you that the Goblin Kingdom has always maintained peace with the creatures of the Junk Flats. They _were _here first after all." Jareth shrugged at his point given that it was common knowledge that the Junk People were original to the Labyrinth and the castle itself. "I have always maintained a tolerable relationship with them Lady. That is until you appeared in my Kingdom. Why is that, I wonder."

"I am not here to argue scruples with you, You're Majesty. I openly admit that since my arrival the Junk People have become bolder in their explorations of their surroundings. You could not have possibly thought they would remain quietly where you had them forever? The population is growing Sir, and growth requires movement and the attainment of new resources. As I understand it your own people in the Goblin City are facing hardships relative to a growing lack of iron ore among other necessary things."

"Mm hm." Jareth's arms were crossed at this point an indication that he was quickly growing tired of the current dialogue. "As Goblin King I will not deny that in recent decades the demands of those who reside in the Labyrinth have intensified. However I guarantee you Lady the problems of my Kingdom are being dealt with accordingly. Now if you don't mind may we dispense with idle conversation about the state of the Kingdom and get straight to the point? _What_ do you want with me Ariadne?"

Perfect. Ariande's plan was working just as she hoped. Jareth was correct it was time to get directly to the point. "I would like to offer your Majesty a possible boon."

Jareth eyed the witch a moment as he took in her response. What was she playing at? What where her real motives? Jareth didn't trust the blasted woman father then he could spit. "I see. Well isn't that wonderfully diplomatic of you." Jareth rattled off with a tilt in his voice as a mirthless laugh followed his statement and his gauntleted fists came to rest and his waist. "What does a creature such as yourself believe you could _possibly_ offer me that would provide me any particular blessing?"

"It was not my intention to offend you, You're Majesty. I know you to be a man of quite impressive ability and I would not presume to suggest otherwise nor indicate that I am of any particular merit to your ambitions. However...You are the Goblin King and I am the Lady of the Arid Flats. Can you deny that pooling our resources would be most advantageous? I cannot pull back my people Sir and deny them the right to seek what is necessary to uphold their way of life. That being said if you would be willing to open trade with the boarding lands of the Underground you and I could provide for our peoples and strengthen the Kingdom in a way that would force all who stood before us to respect the Labyrinth and the Goblin Kingdom for the Monarchy that it is."

Jareth's brow raised as Ariadne prattled off her speech to its conclusion. Was she implying a veiled union between herself and him by way of joining forces? No. THAT certainly wasn't going to happen...Ever. Jareth didn't care what the conniving woman had done to her hair.

There was no proof that Ariande was anything more then a second rate witch out to make herself more important then she really had any right to be. While some might have said the same thing about Jareth the point of difference was that Jareth had gained his position as ruler of the Goblins and the Labyrinth's occupants via a lawful and recognized venue. Even his critics could not dispute that Jareth had every right to govern the Goblin Kingdom and act as custodian for the Labyrinth itself. The only thing that had allowed Jareth to protect the interests of his domain this long was his deft ability to keep the inner workings of the kingdom firmly shrouded in mystery and illusion. Jareth was not about to Jeopardize his life's work by making shady bargains with a woman who enslaved people in order to achieve her ends. Oh yes. Jareth was quite aware of Ariadne's methods of ruling the Junk People. The Goblin King was not without informants after all. While it was more or less true that certain resources in the kingdom were becoming scarce the Goblin King was not fool enough to solicit aide from the other surrounding Lands.

"My, aren't we being generous. While your proposal is indeed attractive I'm sorry to say I must effectively destroy your dreams of them ever becoming a reality. If the Junk People must scavenge let them do it out side the boarders of my Kingdom and away from the rest of the populous. As I said, I have always tolerated the people of the Arid Flats in the past. However I will not allow their wandering or their habits to endanger my people and disrupt their security in the present." Jareth informed her. "If you cannot pull them back then mark my words Lady...I _will_ push them back for you."

It took great effort for Ariadne to avoid openly sneering at Jareth. The man was utterly insufferable! Furthermore he was calling Ariadne's bluff; a feat which pricked at her pride. Then again what had she really expected? Jareth was just as jaded in some respects as she was in his dealing with people. Besides all of this was simply a façade meant to make the Sorceress seems as obliging as possible. It would be imperative that Ariad be able to claim all that she had done was in the purest light.

"As you wish, You're Majesty." Ariadne bowed her head humbly. The game was almost up! In a matter of moments Jareth was about to get the shock of his life and Ariadne was glad of it. It was such a pity she could not afford to stay and watch the spectacle unfold in its nasty entirety. "Is there anything else you would like to discuss before I take me leave, my Lord?"

"There is the matter of the fires that erupted in the night. I can't prove beyond a doubt that you were directly responsible for that little display Ariadne. However I do strongly believe you are directly responsible..." Jareth straightened to his full height and pointed one long limb at the witch. If he'd had his way Jareth might have produced a crystal to emphasize his point however that was currently against the rules of their meeting. "If I ever discover that you or one of your minions personally had a hand in damaging my Kingdom or anyone in it I will hold you accountable Ariadne and I will not be gracious nor gentle in my handling. I warn you...Don't defy me!"

Ariad was retreating at this point. Jareth's threat thrown to her back as she departed down the bluff and nearly out of sight with her and clasped before her as she walked. "I wouldn't dream of it." Ariadne remarked slyly to her self a slight smile crept onto her face.

Jareth's brows knitted together as an equally slight frown ebbed at the corners of his mouth. The meeting was not formally over until Ariad completely departed from his line of vision however the Goblin King prepared to take his own leave any way making the foolish under sight of turning his back to her in his desire to leave. It was dangerous in and around the Labyrinth to take anything for granted. Even a Goblin King was prone having an occasional lapse in good judgment.

No sooner had Jareth turned his back on the departing witch did Ariade suddenly stop an turn around to glare at the Goblin King as he prepared unsuspecting to transform into the barn owl. This was the moment the blasted woman had been waiting for and no doubt the opportunity that Jack needed as well.

Ariadne gave one sharp nod casually pointing at Jareth from a distance as if to say to her hiding minion..._Take him._

Jack waited patiently through the long, but certainly not uninteresting conversation between the two rulers; tempered by his own jaded years and smugly mellow demeanor. Ariad had played her part perfectly. She had anticipated Jareth's reactions with the utmost precision and the great Goblin King had been left only mildly perplexed by her seemingly placid acceptance as he swiftly rejected her offer. Jareth was a sticky one to deal with, he'd sniff out a bad ploy before it even began, but Ariad had been careful. In fact, she'd set it up so well, once again the Junkman found himself at the mercy of her cold intellect.

From his vantage point behind the rocky outcropping, Jack spent most of the time watching Jareth; not because he preferred looking at the lanky, lion haired sod over the currently angelic Ariad, but because he knew how risky it was going to be to mount an attack against the Goblin King. He did not doubt that Jareth had protected himself in some way or another going into a meeting with a witch like Ariad. Not to mention Jareth was known for having more than a few tricks up his sleeve. It was lingering on that thought that a brilliant loophole presented itself to Jack.

Jareth traversed quickly from one point to another by transforming into a barn owl; it was a well known fact, and Jack had seen the owl many times over the years. It was likely that Jareth would take that form to leave the bluff, as he didn't seem too keen on lingering. In fact, he seemed on the verge of doing so right at the very moment.

Quickly glancing at Ariad, the Junkman saw that she had already conjured up the idea. Of course. Not wasting a moment more, Jack emerged from behind the rocks; leaping the two feet or so to their top and assuming an offensive stance that was, a bit goofy.

Despite his appearance, like many things, Jack was a dead aim; after all he'd had quite sometime to practice. He'd already picked out at least ten rocks of varying size scattered around the nearby bluff as his weapons. And as Jareth took the from of the barn owl, Jack pivoted and 'picked up' the nearest one, a good sized boulder, and hurled it at the owl with frightening pinpoint accuracy.

"Lights out Jerry," Jack called out smarmily, a dry smirk on his face as he watched the rock speed towards the unsuspecting owl...

The rock in question hit its mark well striking the bird just as it had gotten a good hold in the air and the span of its wings had fully extended out to catch the available up draft that should have carried it high above the bluff. The small rock however had hit clean and well just as Jareth in the form of the owl had gotten about fifteen feet into the air. The rock struck the unsuspecting owl sharply at what could have possibly been interpreted as just above it's right elbow, had the wing been a human arm, effectively fracturing the bone upon impact if not breaking it outright.

The owl gave a startled shriek in the sky as the impact and the loss of its right wing instantly crippled it in the air causing the bird to do a sort of aerial summersault before dropping out of the sky at an almost alarming rate of speed into the hard ground blow. Ironically if the rock hadn't done its job the fall certainly would. It seemed that the only thing that had saved Jareth from snapping his neck upon meeting the ground was the fact that about half way down as the bird dropped whatever enchantment that had been holding Jareth in the birds form was broken causing the man instead of the bird to literally fall the rest of the way out of the sky. Jareth hit the ground hard and not on his good side which further compacted any injury he had already sustained despite the armor he wore. Jareth rolled twice due to landing at an incline before his battered body came to rest face down in the dirt.

At first glace some might have thought after witnessing this spectacle that Jareth had been killed however upon closer inspection it appeared he'd just been knocked cold which was probably a blessing considering he would have likely been in a world of pain had the Goblin King been conscious just then.

Jack watched Jareth's surprised faltering and subsequent fall to the ground with the sort of satisfaction that bordered on the profane. It was the sort of thing he'd only seen his most gratifying dreams; the Great Goblin King struck down like a pile of dry sticks in the wake of a roaring fire.

Sneering, the Junkman jumped down from the outcropping and strode towards the prone form of what was now the human likeness of Jareth. His Highness was now face down in the emerald grass; his head of gravity defying fiery locks was all that could be seen of his recognizable features.

Jack tilted his head to the side as he looked down at his prey; giving the prone King a curious but cautious glance. Not one to take many chances, the Junkman brought back one booted foot and delivered a few sharp kicks to Jareth's midsection, just for good measure. "How does it feel, eh?" Jack muttered through clenched teeth, "Brought down so easily by a toadie like myself?" Not that Jareth seemed to be in any condition to reply, but Jack couldn't help but gloat just a little. "Nothin' too it mate, really..." Of course, without Hoggle's help, and Ariad's brilliant scheme, Jack would never find himself in this position, but he need not focus on those trivial things right now; this was his moment of glory.

Crouching down, Jack collected a hearty handful of Jareth's hair in one hand and yanked the Goblin King's head back viciously; taking a good look at the face of his enemy defeated. Indeed, Jareth's features were slack, but he was not dead, that much was obvious.

Was it even possible to kill Jareth? Jack realized suddenly that he'd never really considered that question despite his years of yearning for just that. Jack had his doubts. If he...a being a mere few steps above a mortal was so resilient to death, he was sure Jareth was even more so. But then again, there were certainly opportunities at present to test that method.

Letting go of Jareth's hair, Jack stood up straight; glancing around the surrounding bluff with a sort of lazy calculation. Surely a big enough boulder, placed anywhere above the waist would do the trick...

And then of course, there was the tantalizing thought of just how happy Ariad would be if Jareth was indeed out of her way...permanently.

Ramona was not exactly an expert at maneuvering through the Labyrinth. In fact if it hadn't been for the fact that she carried a ladder with her whenever and wherever she was out the city the fiery haired woman might have easily gotten stranded in the vast twists and turns of the maze numerous times. If she'd had her way Mona wouldn't have left the Goblin City at all unfortunately for her she was in great need of more Fairy Dust which was a polite term for what were essentially the powdered wings of Biting Fairies. The unorthodox ingredient was a staple in basic Regional cooking as well as a popular ingredient to mix into pipe tobacco and snuff given that if snorted the powdered fairy wings produced a druggging effect, not unlike opium, on magical creatures. With humans it was largely used as a sedative to ease mild to moderate aches and pains and often included in soups and salves.

Despite it's popularity Fairy dust was not an easy commodity to come by in the Labyrinth as it took a great many Biting Fairies to grind down a reasonably useful amount. Further more the little pests were not generally found in and around the Goblin City. This forced Mona to travel all the way to the outer rim of the labyrinth wall in order to find large enough nests in which she could take from. All in all it required a day long trip there and back as well as an overnight stay in the maze. This was largely due to the sad truth that Mona didn't have a good enough sense of direction to efficiently travel through the maze and back in one sitting.

After spending a frustrating day walking through the labyrinth and having to stop every couple yards to check that she was going the right way, Mona was not exactly in the best of moods by the time she got to the final outer wall.

"I've really gotta find a better way to do this in the future." Mona reminded herself for the umpteenth time as she set her large basket on the ground slipped her giant wooden spoon into her leather belt and slammed her light weight wood ladder up against the stone wall. The thwack of the ladder hitting the wood matched Ramona's annoyance as the red head hiked up her multi colored, multi layered, patchwork skirts and began to climb up the ladder in order to check her bearings one last time.

Incidentally this was around the exact same time Jack "the junkman" Basil was contemplating his murderous intentions against the incapacitated Goblin King upon the bluff.

Given that the bluff was technically elevated above the level of the Labyrinth when Mona climbed all the way up her ladder to look over the wall the dark figure of Jack upon the bluff was clearly visible as was Mona's flaming red hair against the setting sun.

"Hey!" Ramona shouted when she caught sight of Jack. It wasn't every day Mona ran into another human. "What do you think you're doing?" It was a general question and asked in a somewhat combative way.

As for Jareth, at this distance he probably just looked to Mona like a lump of black rocks. Was there no justice in this world?

Ramona's timing was impeccable. Jack had been mere seconds away from dropping a rather large sized boulder right on top of the incapacitated Jereth; surely crushing him beyond help. Instead, the Junkman was so startled by her sudden arrival, he, to his embarrassment, instantly dropped the boulder in a lapse of concentration; missing the Goblin King by a number of feet. The massive rock hit the ground near Jack with a rumbling thud, but his attention had turned fully on the red haired woman glaring at him over the edge of the wall that made up the side of the stepped bluff.

"What in the bloody hell?" He managed; more an automatic response than anything. He stared at the new arrival with a mixture of surprise, awe and anger. He'd never seen this woman before; with her head of fiery red hair and patchwork of gypsy like clothing. For a brief moment she appeared as something almost ethereal; with her red hair glinting off the low setting sun like a siren. Blinking a few times, Jack cleared his vision. In turn, a deep frown creased his features as he realized there was nothing fantastical about this woman. No, she was nothing more than a human. Granted, Jack hadn't seen a fully human woman in quite sometime, but he'd been around the semi-human long enough to spot one that was likely more mortal than anything.

"Piss off love," he snapped in a rather misogynistic tone. "This isn't' any of your business..." Whoever she was, she needn't know that it was Jareth himself crumpled in the grass not far from where Jack stood.

The Junkman swept a ringed hand through his head of frizzy locks, "Move it, nothing for you to see here..." A hard edge of a threat seeped into his voice. "I'm not going to tell you twice." It would be so easy to topple that ladder of hers over.

Who did Jack think he was, speaking to her like that? As if Ramona didn't have enough crap to deal with when treating goblins with stubbed toes and trying to explain the bonuses of pre-natal vitamins to intellectually aware barn yard animals every other day, now THIS guy was trying to give her a hard time. And for what? It wasn't as if Mona was invading his personal space bubble or something. She had been completely keen on minding her own business. If she had stopped what she was doing to address Jack it had only been in the interest of inquiring why he was holding a large rock ominously over his head.

Sometimes immortality did weird things to people's brains particularly if it wasn't natural to their origins. Jack wouldn't have been the first guy Mona had come across in the strange world of the Underground trying to off himself in unorthodox ways just to see how far they could take their advanced longevity.

"Oh yeah?" Mona replied sharply at a yell placing her hands on both hips as she narrowed her eyes at the rude fellow. "Just what are you going to do about it _**BUB**_, throw sticks and stones at me?** IF you take on step in that direction, Mister; I'll smack you so silly your good old **_**mum'll **_**feel it**!" Mona spat before randomly disappearing back behind the wall.

A few moments later a rumbling could be heard as a very indignant red head ungraciously talked her way through the front gates leading out of the Labyrinth proper. Once the gates had promptly opened for her Mona picked up her basket and ladder and stomped through the entrance muttering a mild thank you as the gates quietly closed behind her. Mona then proceeded to set her ladder against the nearest wall as she picked her basket up once more, pulled her trusty giant wooden spoon from her belt and started walking up the hill in Jack's general direction.

If the Junkman had wanted to avoid the woman poking into his business, being rude to her had been a major oversight as the red head now appeared quite intent on approaching him. Ramona might not have been very extraordinary by Jack's standards, but she certainly wasn't a push over. If Jack wanted to get anywhere with her he'd need to employ more...uncharacteristic...tactics then he was accustom to using when dealing with people.

If part of Ramona's tactic was to be so erratic that it threw Jack completely off; it was working quite well. He couldn't do much but stare at her for the moment; dumstruck, at the very audacity that she had. Who in the hell did she think she was, this crazy patchwork woman? Perhaps she was new here, but no...he thought not; she carried herself with far too much assurance over the terrain. Or perhaps she was one of the resident loonies; the Labyrinth had its share of those. That certainly was a possibility. One thing was for sure though, he coudln't let her see the body of Jareth. The Goblin King was recgonizable to everybody in the relm; even the loonies. If anybody found out, Ariad's plans could be in serious jeopardy...and in turn Jack's life itself.

As he watched her stomp up the hill towards him with, of all things, a wooden spoon in her hand, he took a few bold steps towards her; keeping himself between her and Jareth. Now, Jack wasn't a senseless brute; he did not make it a habit to go around harming those who didn't stand in his way in some form or another. And he'd rather not have to toss this odd but certainly not hideous looking woman forty or so feet back off the bluff, but he was realizing very quickly that he just might have to do that. This one didn't look like she here for a friendly chat.

"Look...lady...whoever you are," he began in an attempted 'nicer' tone than before as she came up to him. But he trailed off; perplexed by the feral expression on her face and ultimately horrified when he realized that he wasn't' much taller than her. Humiliating, as always. His gaze dropped the wooden spoon in her hand; a brow arching. Snorting, the Junkman flashed her a wry grin; in a sense changing his tactics...for the moment. Perhaps a more casual approach would avert her attention away from the situation she'd just walked in to.

"How sweet of you luv, knowin' that I fancy a good cake and bakin' one up for me...," the misogynistic tone was back in full force. Jack had never been particularity great with women; human or otherwise. He offered up a short laugh; waving a hand at her dismissively. "But really, I'd rather not lick the spoon...," he pulled a dramatic disgusted face, "...don't' know where that thing's been, looks rather ratty it does..."

Ramona halted a good three feet away from Jack in such a way that made it seem as if her upper torso hadn't really wanted to stop moving forward when her feet suddenly planted themselves into the dirt causing the woman to look as if she might have toppled forward when she came to a stop.

"First off my _name_ is Ramona. Second off only my Raymond _**ever**_ got to call me Lovey, Sweet Cakes, or any of that other cutsie junk. Clear? And anyway I'm not sure you're exactly the type I WANT to make anything sweet for. As for Matilda here..." Romana made a kissy face at her spoon. "I'm willing to wager she's a hell-o-va lot cleaner then you."

Romana gave an indignant sniff before securing _Matilda_ back into the space at her belt before her hands once again came to rest upon her hips as Ramona eyeballed Jack suspiciously. "So huh, what exactly _**were**_ you doing there a second ago with that big, heavy looking, rock?" Without moving from her position on the slanted hill the red head idly attempted to look ever and around the scraggily Brits form but to no real avail considering that Jack was higher up on the bluff then she was and that despite not being a very big man was still effectively managing to block her vision of what ever was behind him.

At first Ramona's question regarding the rock was lost on Jack, as he was too busy staring at the redhead like one might a rather eccentrically shaped piece of shrubbery or even a particularly strange breed of animal.

Matilda? Did this woman just refer to the spoon her hand as Matilda? Jack's brow went from furrowed, to raised, and then back to furrowed again. And who the hell was Raymond? Whoever the poor sod was, Jack felt bad for him already.

The Junkman settled on a sneer, unaffected by Ramona's little quips and quite amused that she actually thought he was attempting to be enduing by calling her "love". Obviously not too familiar with London this one, ah but then again Jack often forgot that most didn't here in this strange, other worldly land. The line of thinking made him briefly wonder just what this human woman was doing here to begin with. All humans got to the Underground by some means or another seeing as they were not native, and Jack had yet to meet one who hadn't paid some price; he certainly had.

But obviously this wasn't the time for such chit chat, besides he was supposed to be a nasty bastard about all of this, and besides this woman had seen too much as it was. He had to get her out of here.

"I was practicing," Jack finally replied; crossing his arms over his chest, and taking just the slightest step sideways into the path of Ramona's curious glance and the heap that was Jareth's body some feet away. "Tossin' a few rocks around is how I get my kicks these days," he continued dryly; offering her a flippant 'so what' look to boot. "Probably not as fun as wielding a bleedin' wooden spoon I'm sure, but what can I say? Not all of us are so talented..." Alright, so he couldn't help but be a little snide. "I prefer to be left alone...to practice," he added with more than just hint. Lifting a brow, he took a step towards her. "Get my drift ...lov- er...Ramona?"

"Uh huh." Ramona looked as if she didn't quite believe Jack. Then suddenly as if a dime that had been standing on its edge finally turned over...Ramona suddenly exhaled a huffy breath and dropped her hands from her sides. "Well! In THAT case...You're doing it all wrong!"

Ramona shrugged her shoulders at Jack raising her hands upwards, with her palms facing up and out, as if to further her point. "Look, let me show you how it's done..."

Ramona suddenly took two wide steps directly towards Jack as if interacting with him up close and personal was the most natural thing in the world she had ever done and before Jack had the time to react Ramona had lightly put both hands on his shoulders as if to encourage him to switch places with her. Oddly the woman seemed to have absolutely no realization that Jareth was laying just behind the man. And why would she? Jack might have been short but he was still taller then Ramona was by a good two inches.

Now that the clearly odd woman seemed intent upon teaching Jack something instructional all of her attention was decidedly focused solely on the task at hand and not on her general surroundings. Ramona was a singular person in that way and often seemed only able to focus on one main idea at a time. "Hello? This would be A LOT easier if you'd cooperate you know..." It also appeared that Ramona was also not very particular about personal boundaries as she was now practically forehead to nose with Jack, which pretty much put the two individuals in very close contact with each other save for the less than four or five inches of space left between them.

Of all the things Jack expected Ramona to do next, namely leave him alone to finish off Jareth, doing what she did next was definitely not one of them. In fact, he looked more than just a bit frightened as she suddenly approached him, smoothly invaded his personal space, and laid her hands on his shoulders. "Wha-?" He managed, but the rest of the sentence failed to come out as he found himself closer to a woman than he'd been in quite sometime...and really, she wasn't all that unappealing now that he got a closer look at her...rather striking really. Funny, how men who thought they were so mighty could be so easily dispelled.

Fidgeting, Jack took a step backwards; but the red head was latched tightly on. Not to mention, that was the wrong direction to go; too many steps backwards and he'd trip over Jareth...

Regaining some sense of him self, Jack flashed a coy grin, "I don't need any help..." He patted her forearms awkwardly; looking for a place to put this hands that didn't seem too intimate. "Ah, the...ah offer is appreciated of course...Ramona..." Was she trying to dance with him? No, she was trying to switch places with him, but he couldn't let her do that. Tightening his grip on her arms just a bit, he fought her back with what appeared to be a casual amount of force; managing another grin for good measure. "Afraid I'm a bit of a stubborn bloke...," he added in a playful whisper; mere inches away from her face.

This was not part of the plan. He could not let this woman see Jareth. He could not let Ariad down. He had to get rid of this woman, but by God, she was a wily one.

"What exactly is it with men and taking directions..." Roman began to mutter as she rolled her eyes and tried to encourage Jack once more to get into the proper position she wanted him in. This prompting required of Mona to get some better leverage. It wasn't so much that she believed she could move the man her self, Ramona wasn't an idiot after all. It was more like she hoped a little more pressure would encourage him to simply comply.

As a result Ramona had decided to plant one food in between Jacks feet; which put her in near contact with the unconscious Jareth. "and another thing. You're really tense. If you're going to be hauling rocks around you gotta be loose otherwise your going to throw something out and trust me...You DO NOT want a recurring injury like that to last forever."

While Jack was busy trying to keep Ramona occupied he was in fact also not paying much attention to the Goblin King who seemed to be coming mildly to his senses even if he was still utterly incapacitated on the ground. In fact poor Jareth was probably still in such a state of stunned shock from being hit that he had no idea what he was doing, where he was or the precarious situation that was literally unfolding mere inches away from him.

Point in fact about the only specific thing Jareth could register at the moment as he squeezed his eyes shut against the throbbing pain raking through his side was the slight awareness that someone was talking in the haze of the background.

_**"What is it with men and taking directions?**_"

what in the bloody deuce? Jareth found himself contemplating through the red haze. Hissing as he attempted to move with serious complaint from his battered body. The goblin King began to blindly grope around the ground slowly for something solid to hold onto before he tried to get up.

Unfortunately for Jareth just as Ramona had finished her last comment to Jack the Goblin Kings groping hand lightly bushed Ramona's ankle as a sharp hiss could be heard from the general area of the ground.

Now as it happened Ramona had pretty good hearing. Perhaps not nearly as grand as Araidne's or Meriel's it was still relatively top notch for a human. Ramona suddenly froze where she stood her limbs taking on a rigid set as the red heads eyes suddenly got as big as tea saucers. Suddenly without warning (Did the woman ever do anything that was predictable or seemingly sane?) Ramona started pounding on Jack's chest in a bizarre moment of sheer panic before knocking the previously bewildered gentleman rather hard in the solar plexus as she showed an amazing amount of adrenaline fuelled force by pushing Jack hard to her right as she screamed.

"SNAKE! SNAKE! SNAKE! SNAKE! KILL IT! KILL IT!"

Yes. It appeared the strange patchwork woman was indeed afraid of something. With her head jerked sharply away from her body Ramona quickly hiked up her skirts and instead of running away down the bluff like one would expect a hysterical woman to do Ramona made a grab for her wooden spoon with her right hand and brandishing it blindly like a club preceded to wildly bash the ground directly in front of her foot which resulted in the woman stir crazily smacking the unsuspecting and innocent Goblin King repeatedly across his face and head.

Poor poor Jareth. Whatever conscious awareness he might have had seconds ago was instantly obliterated by Ramona brutal and unforgiving assault. So wild was the red head in her state of hysteria that even after Ramona had stumbled backwards a few steps she was still swatting wildly at the air with her eyes closed.

Ramona's spuratic and unpredictable nature was just too much for the generally languid Junkman. If he was a bit irritated before, he was irate now. "HOLY HELL WOMAN!!!!" He shouted back into her face, once he'd regained his breath from her surprisingly strong blow to his chest that is. It had taken him a moment to understand what had happened, but once he had, Jack knew this situation had gone from bad to worse.

Simultaneously trying to protect all of his vital organs at once from Ramona's frenzied, 'snake' induced, spoon assault, he made a grab for her armed hand; roughly wrangling her around with his other arm. It was too late to feign much more stupidity. She'd seen Jareth, well...she didn't know it was Jareth yet but it was only a matter of time before she realized that 'snake' was in fact the hand of the waking Goblin King.

"Shit!" Jack cursed between clenched teeth; wrestling with the crazy patchwork woman, who apparently was still in the midst of going berserk. Letting her see and eventually recognize Jareth was going to be nothing in compared to having to deal with the Goblin King awake. Of course, Jareth was injured, but Jack was not about to underestimate his nemesis' abilities. If only he'd had the chance to drop that rock...

Thinking quickly, Jack attempted to reassure Ramona whilst still attempting restrain her. He had to play into her fears to solve this. "I"ll get rid of it, just...just calm down you crazy bag!" No, that wouldn't work...not entirely. He had to distract her. Referring to that strain of the dramatic that ran in his veins, the Junkman whipped is curly haired head around. "I see another one, over there!" He pointed in the opposite direction of Jareth. The brief moment that Ramona turned to look, Jack rallied up all of his concentration and launched the nearby waking form of Jareth as far away as he could muster.

The Junkman then let go of Ramona in a feigned act of relief. "Ah, no matter, looks like that one by us buggered off...," he brushed off his rumpled jacket; shooting the red head an uncharacteristic sharp look. "Will you put away that bloody spoon for god's sake!"

Alright, so it probably wasn't the smoothest plan ever executed. But you try to think with a crazy red head swinging a spoon in your face! Now, the question was, would she fall for it?

This time the fall did in fact knock Jareth back to his sense and not a moment to soon judging by the chaos that was currently unfolding. Rolling fully onto his back and trying to ignore the pain of what was surely a broken arm if not something worse the Goblin King found himself in an awkward state of distress. Whoever had struck him down would certainly pay for what they'd done, but for the moment revenge was not in the forefront of Jareth's mind. Escape was.

Who was with him on the bluff, however? Ramona, Jareth recognized without seeing. She was a resident of the Goblin City and thus Jareth had interacted with her before. Although it was impossible to imagine that she had been the one to assault him the first time around. Jareth knew for a fact that rock throwing wasn't Ramona's style and he had a narrow bleeding cut across his chin to prove it, from where her damn wooden spoon had struck him at a particularly sharp angle. As for the other person. A man no less, Jareth couldn't immediately place him. Better to get away now and re-assess the situation later.

Propping himself gingelry up on a low rock Jareth tried to produce a effectively strengthened crystal however when he tried to perform the necessary maneuvers in building one of significant power the Goblin King came up short and blew out a muffled huff of pain. Well at least he could stand. Even injured as he was and incapable of producing a crystal of any particularly strong defense Jareth, was still not completely vulnerable. And he was sure as hell not in a happy mood.

Ramona was a person of limited attention span in the sense that it only took a small new thing to distract her from what she had been previously ranting about. While Ramona was perfectly capable have having very sane grounded spans of mental clarity and focus there were moments like this were she had to be jerked back into a more logical state of mind. In fact Jack had done a very wise thing in her moment of sheer panic by distracting her the way he had. Strangely as quickly as the woman was brought to hysterics, she just as quickly returned to a more docile and sane state of mind. A sane state of mind that was also VERY observant.

Looking from Jack to the area he had tried to toss the Goblin King Ramona once again holstered her wooden spoon and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hey... Can I ask you something that is probably a REALLY stupid question?" Ramona had a pensive look on her face as she tapped her foot lightly. "Why is our Kingdom's favorite tight panted, patriarchal leader, sitting over there moaning like he just got the bageezes beaten out of him? You wouldn't happen to have had anything to do with that would you? Because a if you did then you are in a hell-ova-lot-a trouble." Ramona commented evenly.

Jack had thought that he had seen just about every strange facet of this woman that he was going to see this evening, when out of the blue the redhead calmed down like they eye of a storm.

He gaped at her, certainly not for the first time in the past five minutes or so. He knew how ridiculously stupid he looked when he gaped, but honestly...he couldn't help it; she was as mad as a hatter.

"Wha?" Was the first thing he managed to say to her, but in the midst of the word coming out of his mouth he realized that his game was up; she'd somehow managed to recognize the dark lump some distance away as being Jareth. Perhaps she was more observant than she looked.

"Ah, oh you mean THAT?" He pointed a dramatic finger over his shoulder; brows knitting up his forehead. "Jareth? THE Jareth you mean? The Goblin King himself?" He laughed a boorish laugh that came out sounding so put on he nearly cringed. "No bloody way luv, of course not!" He flapped a hand awkwardly; as if to dismiss the very thought.

_Oh Jesus _he thought, _Ariad is going to eat me alive..._

The silly grin dropped off his face when he saw Roman's expression, "Right," he muttered; picking at his mass of unruly hair nervously. "Sooooo...say it is Jareth...," he folded his arms defensively; giving Ramona what he hoped was a darkly challenging look. "Don't know how he got there a'course...strange place the Labyrinth," he muttered, as if that were some excuse for everything.

He averted her gaze for a moment; attempting to look pensive. When it returned to her it was out of the corner of his eye; a bit coy and most certainly on edge. "I uh...noticed him myself, but...ah you got in my way before I could trot over there and help him..."

"I can assure you Romona **THAT** is the biggest most ghastly little fib I have ever had the misfortune to be plagued with overhearing." A sharp very correct English accent interjected pointedly before the red head had a chance to give her own opinion on the matter. It seemed that Jareth had somehow managed to make it unsteadily to his feet although judging by the lopsided stance he was taking it was obvious by both his tone and his appearance that the physical endeavor of keeping upright was highly ill favored.

Jareth's right shoulder was pivoted inward protectively as his right arm hung dead in its armor, or at the very least Jareth was trying his best to avoid moving it. Droplets of blood could be seen dripping slowly to the earth from the tip of his gauntleted middle finger and a thin line of red ran from the spot where Romona's wooden spoon had savagely struck him.

"Knock me out of the sky, will you? Bludgeon me to death were I lay?" Despite his vulnerability Jareth took a dangerous step towards Jack. "You FOOL! You seething blithering idiot! Do you have ANY idea what you have done? What killing me would have done?!?" If Jareth could have transformed into the slithering name sake gifted him by his critics, the man would have been spiting flesh eating venom by now. "No." Jareth hissed his teeth gnashing white and sharp looking.

"I'd like to think, for your own pitiful sake, you've acted alone in this treachery. No, but somehow I get the strange sensation that isn't the case..." At this point in his speech Jareth suddenly took on an almost charming physical stance. It seemed that whatever anger the Goblin King possessed regarding the nature of his situation, his perspective on the matter was suddenly altered as a new frame of thought had occurred to him; A new frame of thought that seemed to almost transform the Goblin King's features back to that of conceited superiority.

Jareth locked eyes with Jack as he recoiled slowly from the assembly. Meanwhile a sudden half grin began to curl upon the edge of his thin lips. It was a personal quirk that should have been quite unnerving to anyone who knew anything about the Goblin King and his knack for knowing more about the rules of the game than the pawns who were playing it did. "I do hope for your sake, my mangy malevolent miscreant, that your mistress of whom you undoubtedly serve gave you the direct and explicit instructions to kill me. Because if she didn't...-Jareth scoffed- ...that would be such a pity...such a pity, indeed."

Perhaps it was the repeated assault to his cranium that caused Jareth to suddenly start laughing: then again, maybe it was something entirely more despairingly personal that made the Goblin King laugh a laugh that seemed both ironic and painfully hollow at the same time.

Jareth's wounded arm still hung as it had before however while he'd been speaking and moving away from Jack and Ramona, Jareth's other hand had been sitting behind his back worrying a crystal. Even if he had been fully able the Goblin King didn't have enough fight left in him to produce a weapon to defend him self with. And any way even if he could have Jareth would not risk Ramona's well being to appease his own sense of justice in the form of retaliation. His only option was to escape and come back to things when his faculties were better with him.

Once Jareth had successfully managed to put enough space between him self and the others in order to avoid a sudden run and grab the Goblin King suddenly pulled his hand from behind his back and, while still laughing, threw the crystal he had been holding high into the air with what remained of his strength.

It was not yet night and the second great sun of the underground still burned high enough on the horizon line to splinter out beams of its glowing light. As the crystal reached its highest point the orb caught a shaft of light at just the right angle causing a blinding beam to momentarily obscure both Jack and Ramona's very human vision. When their eyes did clear, both Ramona and Jack would find that the wounded Goblin King had, for all intents and purposes, vanished seemingly into thin air.

Ramona who was watching this entire scene play out with agape stone still features suddenly shrieked when a sheet of blinding light momentarily obscured her vision. "Ooooow..." Rubbing at her eyes until they stopped stinging with both fists.

"WELL. Aren't YOU just the class act at making friends!" Ramona randomly smacked Jack in the shoulder with her wooden spoon. "What was THAT all about?!?" Ramona asked huffily as she settled her hands on her hips and spoke to Jack presumably, although it was far more likely she wasn't speaking to anyone particular at all.

All Jack could do was stare back at Jareth with a sort of veiled hatred hidden beneath a well placed layer of shock and freight. Not that he wasn't afraid of Jareth; oh by God he was alright. But his utter loathing for the Goblin King surpassed any sort of fear he possessed; a rather human condition he surmised. Still, the Junkman was no fool...despite his appearance, he wasn't about to scale a head on physical assault against the tightly clad, blond maned creature standing before him; no matter how much he hated him. It would be suicide, and while that option would certainly seem a merciful one later on when he had to face Ariad in defeat, right now it wasn't all too tempting.

Instead, Jack stood his ground; pursing his lips and glaring up at Jareth to the best of his normally languid ability. It pleased him a great deal to see His Gobliness injured and rather bent out of shape to boot, but still the fact remained that the job had not been done all the way. Jareth would heal soon enough, and he was right of course; explicit instructions to kill him had been given. And despite being called both a fool and a mangy malevolent miscreant, Jack couldn't help but feel a twinge of admiration for the tall, lanky being. Oh really, who was he kidding, he not only admired Jareth...he envied him; envied him so much that he hated him. Jareth was everything he was not, and more. If Jack had remained fully human in the Labyrinth he probably wouldn't have felt this way, but once you have a little of something, you want more...you want the whole bloody kit and caboodle.

The Goblin King's laugh was chilling, and at that Jack did take a step back; positing himself just a tad behind Ramona. If Jareth suddenly lashed out, a human shield could come in very handy. But it seemed Jareth had no such plans. He made a slow, but nonetheless menacing retreat, and Jack caught sight of a hand-sized gleaming orb appear just seconds before it was thrown into the air and his all too human vision was momentarily blinded.

Instinctively throwing a hand up over his eyes, the Junkman cringed back slightly. When he removed his hand, blinking against the swirling shapes that the glare had left in his vision, he saw that Jareth was gone. No big surprise there, but the weight of his failure suddenly pressed down on him. He shot Ramona a distracted glare when she turned and gave him a smack with that infernal wooden spoon of hers.

Instead of giving her some sort of satisfactory answer, Jack loped over to a nearby outcropping of rock and sat down upon it in such a pathetic, slouching manner that it was almost comical. Resting his elbows on his knees, he buried his fingers into his mass of hair. "Shit...," he muttered in that quaint, delicately worded way of an Englishman But this was quickly followed up by a moan of most self pitying proportions as he buried his head deeper in his hands.

Alright, so part of it was a bit acted up. But in truth, he knew he was doomed. Ariad would not be pleased, no not at all. She had sent him to get rid of Jareth, and he had only managed to wound the Goblin King; that would not be enough for her. It was possible that he may have succeeded if Ramona had not interfered, but as much as he wanted to blame somebody else but himself, he knew that his ineptitude would likely have prevailed in the end. Not to mention, Jareth was just too damn good! He would need to be far more skilled to take the Goblin King on.

"I"m such a bloody imbecile," Jack grated; still speaking into his palms. He then lifted his head up; giving the red head what he hoped was his most effective puppy dog expression. "You're lookin' at a dead man luv..."

With her hands still on her hips Ramona watched Jack slump over to the nearest rock as he began to engage in a very pitiful display of remorse over his apparent failure to do his job. Whatever his job had been anyway. "Huh."

The red head tapped her foot lightly and there was a distinct sense that something was slowly turning in Ramona's mind. "Not...Necessarily." It seemed that an idea had occurred to Ramona that caused her to question Jack's assessment of the situation. "I mean...MAYBE his Majesty has done you an entirely unexpected, not to mention a COMPLETLY undeserved, favor."

Even in the depths of his despair, Jack was able to manage a derisive snort. "What the hell are you on about woman?" He grumbled; eyes narrowing at Ramona in suspicion. In truth, he didn't trust women very much at all. Perhaps his years of serving Ariad had worn at his already scarred psyche. No, it was more than that.

He turned away from her; fishing a rumpled pack of cigarettes out from the pocket of his worn leather jacket. "If you mean sparing my bleedin' life," he muttered around the cigarette he'd just perched in his mouth, "...then you're dead wrong." He lit the smoke with a sort of pathetic despair; seeming to sink even deeper into the rock. "Whatever His Gobliness could have done to me is nothin' but a wee speck compared to what Ari-...to what my mistress is going to do to me..." He cringed at the word 'mistress' it seemed to imply something that was most certainly not there. Still, it was all he had at the moment.

Jack peered at the red head through the haze of thick cigarette smoke. He never smoked filters anymore. What was the point? It wasn't as if they were going to kill him...unlike some other soon-to-occur events in his semi-magical life.

"Don't be so bloody optimistic," he hissed at her like a simpering child. Who the hell was this woman anyways? And why was he sitting here attempting to gain her pity? Maybe he was just trying to delay the inevitable meeting with Ariad, or maybe it was something else entirely.

The Junkman could tell that the cogs in the red head's mind were turning, and he wasn't sure that filled him with a whole lot of confidence.

"HEY. Don't get testy with me bub, I was just _saying_. _You_ might not know alot about Jareth but I _do_. He doesn't just go around saying certian things for the hell of it, OK? You might consider that MAYBE he was trying to tell you something. Romona said sharply crossing her arms.

She did have a fair arguement on the matter. Jareth was known to be the type to cyrptically encode vital information into his own diologue therefore one had to be very careful not to take anything his Majesty, or anyone else native to the labyrinth, said for granted. "Just what did your boss lady send you out here to do? I mean _really_ think about it. What where her _**exact**_ words?"

Jack was many things, and a stubborn git was one of them. It didn't even occur to him that this crazy woman knew Jareth, and knew him well. He shot her a bristly look. "That so eh?" He replied, but the interest was mostly put on. Perhaps later, in the quiet of his own house of junk, Jack would recall what Jareth had told him; the veiled warning, the hidden meaning. But for now he was too worried about his own failure and the consequences that that would entail to do much in the way of logical thinking.

At Ramona's inquiring questions Jack shook his curly haired head emphatically, "Oh no luv...I'm not tellin' you a damn thing 'bout what my boss lady said and didn't say...nor do I give a rat's furry ass what Jareth said neither." Of course that wasn't exactly true, but Jack wasn't exactly the most honest bloke around either. But he wasn't about to divulge any information to this woman; he was in deep enough with Ariad as it was.

He stood up, hiking his baggy, ill-fitting trousers up in the process; as if to summon up some sort of masculine machismo that he felt he may have lost somewhere during this episode. "I don't owe that tight wearin', globe tossin' bastard a bloody thing," he stated around his burning cigarette, "And I surely don't owe you a bloody thing neither," he added; pointing accusingly at the red head. But the hostility in his voice became watered down just a little. Sensing this, he turned away to snub his cigarette out on the rock. "It's all none a'yer business...," he concluded.

What a stubborn, annoying, unpleasant man...and suspicious to boot. After all that she'd gone out of her way to do for him. What nerve. As for Ramona's relationship with Jareth it wasn't all that surprising that she was familiar with his attitudes, maybe he'd even been directly responsible for why she was in the labyrinth. Ramona hadn't wanted to get into Jack's business in the first place and she could have really cared less if the man wanted to confide in her or not. Politics had never been her strong point so when Jack decided to pull his cards tight to his sleeve Ramona just shrugged. "Fine, have it your way. It's getting dark and thanks to _you_ now I've been put off my schedule."

Ramona huffily turned towards the maze, collected her things, hiked up her skirts and started marching back towards her ladder. "Try to be nice to a guy and what does he do? Automatically think you're out to get him..." Ramona muttered to herself as she walked down the hill.

What an annoying, bossy, loudmouthed, loony woman...and nosy to boot. Jack snorted, "Piss on your shedual...," he muttered; folding his arms and sneering at the red head as she hastily took her leave. But the sneer quickly died down, and for a brief moment the Junkman appeared almost nervous and/or upset that she was leaving him. For a few seconds he seemed to be working up something to say to her receding backside; perhaps even dare we say...something remotely pleasant?

"Don't you be stickin' yer nose in my business again woman!" He shouted at her back; realizing he never got her name; no matter. "And you can tell yer leotard wearin' chum that he'd best be watchin' his back! His time here is nearly up!" He paused; a flash of skepticism crossing his features; thankfully her back was to him. "That's right, you heard me!" He added quickly, "A load of bullocks, that's what it all is...and it's reeeeeaaaal near an end luv, real near!" He fell silent; finally.

Then again...'pleasant' wasn't one of Jack's stronger qualities.

Blowing out a long breath, Jack then turned and stomped off in the opposite direction. It was time to face his fate; whatever that might entail. There were options of course. It wasn't as if he was permanently stuck in the Labyrinth; he could leave at any time, that was one of his abilities. And as he made his way back to the Tunnels the thought of simply going up to the Above for a spell certainly crossed Jack's mind. He couldn't stay up there too long of course, he'd loose everything he had worked so hard to achieve down here, but it would give him time to think.

No, he couldn't do that. Ariad would know he'd ran, and knowing that she thought him a coward was a horrid feeling. He was going to face up to this...even if it cost him his life.

---

Soon after the final parties upon the bluff parted ways the second sun finally finished its journey downwards effectively extinguishing the final light of the day to make way for a balmy night within the Labyrinth and beyond. It would seem however that for some in the Labyrinth the night would be a long one indeed and there was no telling what the morning would bring.


	9. Strangers, Danger, and Serious Deja vu

As Jack got closer and closer to the Tunnels, the idea of going to see Ariad right away became less and less enticing. As much as he loved to gaze upon her, he had to admit that he could afford to go without for awhile. He'd just go home, yes...and besides, she'd beckon him if she wanted to see him. And like the cuckold he was, he'd come to her call. In the Above, they used to call people like him 'lap dogs'; among other things, did they still do that? He wasn't sure, he was a little out of touch with the world Above. That thought did bother him a little.

Marching past his morbid lawn ornaments; the row of Junk People's shriveled heads on spikes to be more to the point, the Junkman entered into the large heap of debris he called his home. Once inside the junk made chambers, he began rapidly sifting through...yes, more junk in search of something.

As he tossed scraps of debris aside, Jack began a rather sordid conversation with himself. "Yes, of course Lady Ariad...Jareth won't be of any problem to you any longer..." This conversation was conducted in a muttered, slightly off kilter tone, as if he was attempting to practice a speech he absolutely did not want to give but felt the need to have with himself nonetheless. "Sorted that bastard out I did," he continued on; throwing a set of putrid orange cushions over his shoulder. "Yes, yes of course m'Lady...I saw him...wasn't movin' a bleedin' inch, no mum..."

At this Jack snorted; seemingly amused with himself. He then tossed an empty glass bottle aside, which went smashing into what appeared to have once been a large musical instrument of sorts. He briefly straightened up, scowling at the pile of junk in front of him before continuing on with both his searching and his one-sided conversation. "Now, now Ariad...you see I've done you a mighty big favor luv..," he bent over further; still talking; a hand rummaging through the pile as if the order of it made some sort of sense to him. "And I say it's about time we end this little game..." He paused, seeming to find what he was looking for. "Tell me...Lady...," he said with relish; yanking the item from the pile, "...when is the last time you let a man tou-," he halted, lifting the item, a half full bottle of Scotch, up to eye level. Whatever else he was going to say was thankfully lost to the power of distraction.

"Knew you was here somewhere...," he grumbled at the bottle; yanking the cork out of the top and giving the amber liquid a loving sniff. "Ah..."

Sometime later, utterly pissed and much worse for wear when it came to judgment, Jack came staggering from his home and entered into the main tunnels. If he looked rather rumpled and disheveled normally, he rather resembled a bed that had never been made now. There was still a quarter of the Scotch left, and the bottle swung from one hand as if it was somehow keeping his balance. He was humming some tune so off key that it sounded more like a dying seal than anything else.

Even drunk, it didn't take him long to find Hoggle. The small being was still holed up in his cell at the heart of the tunnels, and he didn't appear to be any happier than before.

"Oh bless my eyes...," Jack drawled; managing to lean up against the wall that led into the room that held Hoggle's cell. "What in the bloody hell are you still doing here?" He quipped; finding that so funny that he started laughing even before he had finished the sentence.

Then rather suddenly he held the bottle out towards the cell bars. "How about a drink my wee little friend...surely yer not beyond a nip or two eh?" Normally, this would have seemed ridiculous to Jack, and surely it would seem ridiculous later, but for now...it made perfect sense.

Reeling a little; he inched the bottle closer; a half smile on his face, his hair half flattened on one side. His hideous tie, which was in a sorry state to begin with, now appeared to have been folded rather like an accordion. As if he was suddenly very aware of his appearance, the Junkman smoothed it down a bit; still holding out the bottle with his other hand. 'Come on!" He baited Hoggle rather impatiently. "A little pissed ain't done nobody any harm..."

Famous last words.

Hoggle was still sitting where Jack had left him when the most bizarre humming could be heard in the distance. A minute later a much exuberated Junkman came practically waltzing into the holding chamber. Judging by Jack's cherry disposition the Junkman seemed to be particularly pleased with himself and in a genial mood that was both surprising and potentially hazardous to the dwarf's health.

When Jack went as far as to offer his captive a drink Hoggle had little choice but to oblige the man for fear that Jack might become angry if he didn't. "Gaw. What're you so 'appy about?" Hoggle asked in a low suspicious tone while coming to the bars of his cage.

It was hard to believe but given his choice Hoggle would have rather dealt with Jack sober. Being pissed like he was at current it made it harder to predict what the Junkman might do. Then again, Hoggle had a sinking suspicion that something awful had happened in Jack's absence and if that was true then it was important for the dwarf to know as much about it as possible.

Jack appeared to be genuinely pleased that Hoggle had taken his Scotch bottle, for the moment at least. The sloppy grin was still on the Junkman's face, and he seemed to be leaning even more heavily on the nearby wall than before. But he offered up a bitter snort at the creature's question.

"Happy?" Jack slurred, "I ain't happy a'tall my minuscule...mangy little...mate," he paused to swallow a belch. "In fact, I"m 'bout as far from happy as a bugger can get..." He reeled a bit, "Yeessir...real damn unhappy in fact." He was too pissed to put much or any check at all on the words that were coming out of his mouth. Somewhere, way back in the rational...sober part of his mind, he was disgusted with himself already, but the power of booze was far too much to fight against, even for a man not entirely human anymore.

Suddenly, as the drunk were apt to do, Jack's mood changed. He slumped further against the wall, letting his head hang down. For a few moments he just stood/half slumped there, his fingers pressing into his forehead. "Ever feel like...there isn't any point anymore?" He muttered gloomily; either to Hoggle or himself, it was difficult to tell. "You try, and try...and try...and bloody try...and you're still nothing more than a...a tool..." another snort; this one particularly self depraved. "Why??" This was said with so much despair that for a brief moment it appeared the arrogant Junkman was having an emotional breakdown.

But, as expected, it passed just as quickly as it came, and Jack's head swung back up. "Gimmie that bleedin' bottle," he snarled; making a very unsteady lunge towards the bars and snatching the bottle out of Hoggle's hand; uncaring whether his prisoner had had his fair share yet. Once he had the bottle again, Jack opted to just sit down right then and there in front of the bars. The tunnel room the cell was in was beginning to feel even smaller than it actually was, spinning as it was.

He knocked back another long swig; wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "Take my word for it Boggle...ain't no woman...no nothin'...cept yerself a' course worth slavin' over..." That sentence would make perfect sense to a drunk man. For the moment he had seemed to have traded brief hostility for pissed contemplative philosophy. "An'...I know...about youuuu and that giiiiirl...don't' think I don't...yeah." Jack pivoted around a little to glance at Hoggle out of the corner of one droopy eye. "Yer better off alone mate...trouble...is...bloody right..." He nodded wisely, and then returned his attention to the bottle when another sudden change overcame him.

"I nearly killed His Gobligookness tonight...hah!" He announced loudly, followed by a laugh that was very close to something the sober Jack might deliver. "Damn bloody straight I did!"

When Jack blurted out the truth of his dirty deeds Hoggle nearly spit his swig of scotch across his cell. "What-da-ya mean you almost _killed_ his Majesty tonight? Arrrrgh. Are you insane?!?" The Dwarf demanded.

Hoggle came directly to the bars staring in practical disbelief at Jack's confession. First of all it was impossible to believe someone like the Junkman of all people could have even gotten close enough to Jareth to spit let alone strike him down. Second of all the dwarf had right good reason to worry about what was going to happen once Jareth discovered it was potentially a slip of the tongue on Hoggle's part that had contributed to it. "I'm dead...his Majesty is going to tip me straight into the bog of Eternal Stench or WORSE!" The dwarf suddenly started pacing apparently in the throws of an emotional breakdown.

"What'd you have to go and do a thing like that for anyways? Because...SHE told you to do it? Cor, you should be taking your own damn advice Jack Basil and be leave'n me the hell outta it!" It appeared that when Hoggle was substantially angry he also forgot to be a coward.

Drunk or not, it didn't take Jack too long to react to Hoggle's words. The Junkman spun on his haunches, hand darting in-between the bars; grabbing the dwarf by the collar of his tunic and yanking him forward as far as he'd go with the cell wall between them.

"Ahh no, don't yeewww be smart mouthin' off to me...," Jack seethed between clenched teeth; the stench of Scotch so thick on his breath it was almost enough to knock a being out, "...you bloody good for nothing...little twerp..." It was difficult to come up with a really biting insult when you were pissed. Jack gave Hoggle a shake for good measure; his knuckles at the dwarf's neck white with anger. "I'll damn well do what I want...," he grated, "...and who...and what I did it for is none of your bleedin' business..." With that, he let Hoggle go. But it was done none-too-gently, and a bullying shove soon followed; sending the dwarf reeling backwards.

Jack laughed at that; a sort of half drunk, half triumphant gloating laugh. "But you do got one thing right ol' chap...," he paused, either for the sake of drama or that of drunkenness; difficult to tell. "...you 'are' dead. Dead as brown bread...dead as all them pathetic Junk People I sorted out." He laughed again; attempting to stand up, and reeling heavily in the process. "In fact...my dear, dear, friend..," he pointed an unsteady finger into the cell, "I think that ugly melon a' yers may just have to end up with the rest of my collection..." He lifted a foot, stomping into the ground, "Right on a stake...BAM!" This sent him into another fit of laughter; in which he spun around and triumphantly began heading for the exit of the room. But in his highly impaired state the Junkman miscalculated and walked right into the wall; stumbling a few steps backwards.

"Bullocks...," he muttered to himself; his non-bottle wielding hand coming up to hold his sore nose. He squinted at his prisoner with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "Oh yer dead Boggle...as soon as I sleep this off..." And he meant it to, the first sober moment he had, Jack was going to come back here and put an end to the dwarf. He didn't give a damn if Ariad wanted him to or not; his patience with following that ice queen's orders was starting to wear thin. He was going to have his way, one way or another.

"Have a few last sweet thoughts 'bout yer girl, before I come back for you..." Jack slurred as he found the proper exit, stumbled out of the room and back through the Tunnels. Amazingly he made it back to his home, but only to the front yard. Feet away from his junk barricaded front door, Jack Basil...better known as the Junkman, promptly passed out under the postmortem gazes of his morbid lawn ornaments. One might even think, in a certain light, that a few of heads appeared to be laughing.

---

Meanwhile As night fell on Goblin city a certain smell fluttered in on the gentle evening breeze, from the far West. It made its tender way through the rough-faced, creaking houses and shops, weaving the stone and dirt streets of the city; unnoticed by most, until it wafted in on a long time patron of its enchantment.

The latent form of one slender elfin figure stirred ever so slightly at the feel of its gentle caress. No other race felt the call of the forest quite as strongly as the noble evocative elf attempting to live in anonymity among the common urban rabble. It awakened her every sense, save that of her conscious, and she smiled as she remembered the feel of life; the coolness and shelter of the shade, the spectra of greens and yellows; the blues and violets so uncommon to the brown and grey that seemed to personify the Goblin City. It was a homey smell, a warm smell; but alas, it was a smell as fleeting as the memories which accompanied it.

All too soon it was pushed aside, replaced by one as repugnant as the bog from whence it wafted. All the memories fled with the setting of the final sun and the elf was left with not but her guilt, her scorn, and her shame. She wrinkled her nose and glared out of the hut's small bay window. The shabby curtains fluttered to stillness as the breeze subsided, though the smell did not. Raising herself, and an eyebrow, she gave a berating look in the direction of the disturber of her sweet reminiscence.

Her gaze fell on a Goblin tavern, a little way down the street; it teemed and bustled with activity; the raucous sort of which the elf took little amusement in. She took amusement in little of anything really, and the only true _enjoyment_ she found was in the hunt and in those few moments just as the sun was setting. In normal waking hours she found guilt; guilt that she was alive and well, shame that she was in hiding, and scorn because of her own scorn, her own arrogance. Her dreams were haunted by her worries, her fears; disgraces and atrocities. Often she contemplated the fate of her noble people and weighed it against the humiliation of accepting help of these creatures. Certainly it was the dignified thing to do, but which might have been more humiliating; to receive help from them, or to be forced to live in secret among them...

She shook her head of such thoughts quickly and proceeded to go about her nightly routine; pulling her traveling hood about her and lifting her bow from its resting place near the cold, blackened hearth.

Nienna, as she was so called, was a huntress, so to speak. She went on her rounds nightly to catch fairies, and other such mysterious creatures, for medicinal purposes; selling them to a local remedy woman of whom she had grown surprisingly fond of. Indeed, Ramona's strange ways had become rather... endearing... Of course, the woman was perfectly capable of gathering her own resources, and did most of the time, but she continued to pay Nienna for what she could gather. Occasionally there was some strange beast which she was sent to quest after, but mostly, Nienna believed, Ramona accepted her catch because she knew Nienna needed the work, if not the little money there was in it.

After gathering her small knap sack and shouldering her arrows gladly left the little hut which she hadn't had the humility to call "home", though she'd resided there for quite some time, and made her way toward the outskirts of the city.

-----------

**Back in Boston**

Sarah didn't sleep much that night. She was immensely paranoid she'd have another dream like the dream she had during her unintended nap. She wasn't even sure if it was a dream which made her extremely nervous and she spent half the night lying awake in her bed staring at the wall trying to decipher it all. But, by the early morning hours she had gotten at least two hours of uneasy sleep, it was enough to get her up and functioning for the day.

She grabbed herself a 'nutritious' strawberry pop-tart for breakfast and bought it upstairs. She was going to pack like she had planned yesterday. Maybe if she had kept to her plan to just stay home and pack things today wouldn't be so...weird.

She needed to clear her head and she had the idea that after she was done doing some serious packing this morning she'd go take a stroll in the village area. She had been there yesterday but that was to visit Selene. Today she'd go and treat herself. She needed a new shirt for school and another pair of jeans. Yes, that seemed like a perfect idea. And the young woman went about her planned chores in hopes of a less stressful and thought provoking day.

As it happened Sarah wasn't the only one hoping to have a better day then her last. Somewhere along the main street of Boston a black Japanese made motorcycle revved to a sharp stop in the intersection. It wasn't hard to figure out that the rider was a lithe woman of particularly athletic build judging by the way the form fitting head to toe leather hugged her curves. any other distinguishing features were utterly obscured by the shiny black helmet she wore but as the light turned green and the stranger unleashed her machine it was clear that who ever was behind the helmet had some serious attitude for so early in the morning.

Ian walked slowly, taking in the pristine quiet of Gosling Park in the early hours. A latte steamed fervently in his hand as he strolled the jogging paths through the park towards the shopping village. The park was blanketed in a layer of cold dew the glistened in the morning sunlight, and the temperature was still low: the perfect weather for an on foot journey from his home to the outdoor mall. Though the stores wouldn't be open for at least another hour, Ian savored the outdoor pseudo-grotto; life was a calmer pace outside of the house.

Ian would be returning to school in the next few days, but the amount of time spent surrounded by his siblings was finally taking its toll. No matter what time of day or what room of the house, there was always someone there. Ian had given up trying to find a secluded corner to sketch in back in late June. _Why had I thought home would be different now that three of us were at college?_ Ian thought submittingly.

The next time Ian looked up from his thoughts, he found that he had strayed quite a way away from the mall area and was now sauntering through the cobbled walkways of one of the quaint historic districts that dotted Boston. This district, however, was one that Ian knew all too well: he had spent many long afternoons here, sketching in notebooks outside the tiny Boston's Best coffee shop or perusing the shelves of Reilly's Used Books. And, speaking of which, Ian noticed that the 'Open' sign was facing the street, despite the hour. Ian crossed the street and entered the store; bells above the door jingled wildly as he stepped across the threshold.

Mr. Reilly, who had been ancient when Ian had been little, was still looking as aged and good-natured as ever and looked up from behind the till as Ian came in. "Ah, the prodigal son returns!" said the old man with a crooked smile.

Ian smiled in return. "I didn't know you were open so early, Mr. Reilly."

"Oh yes," Mr Reilly said, nodding. "Those books won't shelve themselves, ya know... and speaking of books, I have one for you, young man," the bookseller said, turning around and running his finger along the spines of a row of books until he came to a small crimson item. "Your mother asked me to track a copy down for you for your birthday, though, considering that was months ago, I'm worried this will soon become a Christmas present..." Mr. Reilly stated, sliding the little book over to Ian. Bound in deep red leather, the title The Labyrinth had been neatly foil-embossed onto the front cover in elegant silver letters. Ian picked the book up carefully, giving it a cursory examination: it was in good condition, if only slightly weathered, and the pages were a creamy eggshell color. Inside, small black words spanned the pages between elaborate sketches.

"All bought and paid for," Mr. Reilly said with a nod. "Your mother must have forgotten she ordered it, and I kept forgetting to give it to you when you were in... so here you are, just in time for school," he said with a slight chuckle. "Better late than never, eh?"

Ian looked up from the book and nodded. "Yes, thank you; it's great..." Ian said, trailing off as he turned the book over in his hands. "I guess I won't be needing another book." And, indeed, despite The Labyrinth's diminutive size, it looked to be a significantly long story. "Thanks again," Ian said, giving Mr. Reilly an appreciate smile before heading back out into the cool morning.

As he passed through one of the carefully-manicured palisades that demarked a side entrance of the outdoor village mall, Ian sipped his latte and stared down at the book in his hand. _The Labyrinth__... interesting... _Ian selected a sun-dried bench and settled in for some reading to kill the time until the stores opened.

The morning was still in the early and none of the stores that Sarah was hoping to visit would be opening yet. This wasn't a bad thing though considering she wanted to hit the stores before they became crowded, and waiting around till the first employee unlocked the door and flipped the sign from 'closed' to 'open', gave her the perfect opportunity to do so.

Munching on her pop tart and keeping her mind clear and far away from bad dreams Sarah sauntered down the sidewalk. She wasn't in a bad mood. She couldn't even classify her mood because she was trying so hard not to have any sense of her emotions becuase she knew if she thought about anything it'd just become complicated. She didn't need that. She just wanted to concentrate on school.

There was already a vast amount of people bustling about, perhaps intent on doing exactly what Sarah was. As she approached the street where she planned to do most of her shopping she hesitated at the nearest bench. It didn't do her any good to walk away from the area. She could sit around and wait like an owl…bad example…tiger waiting for its prey. So, she noticed the one bench on the street was currently occupied.

A young man, probably close to her own age, alone on the bench, sipping a latté, and staring down a book with a most curious expression on his face. One person shouldn't occupy one long bench that could seat at least two people comfortably. That just wasn't fair. Shifting her feet she willed them forward and approached the bench. With a small friendly smile plastered across her angelic features she spoke up, "Excuse me? Is anyone sitting here?" And motioned to the other half of the bench.

_Who wrote this book?!_ The question had flitted through Ian's mind more than once during the last half-hour. The answer, however, eluded him. Inside the book, the fore-pages were devoid of an author's name, an ISBN number, a publication date, even a publisher. Ian had seen books without authors and books without publishers, but didn't every book have a publication date?

Ian had flipped the book open at random and found a carefully drawn map which displayed a sprawling labyrinth, a forest, a swamp, and some other geographical elements that Ian couldn't decipher. No names, no distinguishing marks, no legend. And, at the center of the labyrinth, lay a city and a castle. _Well, the best place to start is at the beginning..._

Ian flipped back to the front of the book; there, behind the title page, in elegantly scrolled letters was the title of the first chapter: What's Said is Said. And below this, in a smaller scrolling type, was the following:

_A prolonged crackling of lightning threw a giant shadow onto the wall facing the window. It was the shadow of a human figure. _

_She said, "Who are you?" _

_"Don't you know?" The man's voice was calm, almost kindly. He was certainly handsome. She had not expected that._

_"You're ... him, aren't you?" You're the King of the Goblins." _

_He bowed. "Jareth. I have saved you," he said. "I have liberated you from those bonds that distressed you and frightened you. You're free now, my beauty." _

_"Oh, no. I don't want to be free," she answered. "I mean, I do, but -- I want my brother back. Please." She gave him a tiny smile. "If it's all the same to you." _

_"What's said is said."_

Ian stopped reading, a frown forming across his face. _Well that's a bit frightening_... And, for a moment, Ian felt a twinge of pity for the beauty. _Be careful what you wish for, I guess... _Ian's eyes strayed to the next paragraph, which had abandoned the narrative and seemed to be more like instructions than anything else. At the bottom of the page, set in bold letters were the words:

**I Wish the Goblins would come and take Me away, Right Now.**

Ian smiled a bit at the quaint, fanciful quality of The Labyrinth. It was incredibly imaginative to say the least. His heart sped up a bit. His face felt warm. A wave of light-headed euphoria swept over the young man. Ian's mouth opened, and the words crept forth in a whisper.

"I wish..."

_**"Excuse me? Is anyone sitting here?"**_

Ian blinked and looked up. Before him stood a beautiful young woman, a small smile glinting on her face, and her hand motioning to the other half of the bench. Ian shook his head slightly, trying to clear it, and then he returned her smile.

"Sorry... drifted off there for a second. Um, yeah, of course! I mean, of course, it's NOT taken, and you're certainly welcome to it... yeah..." Ian stammered out, closing the book and scooting closer to one side of the bench.

Brown eyes sparkled with a hint of sarcasm at the young man's actions. She could recall oh, too many times she had been snapped back to reality. "Thank you." And she settled onto the opposite side of the wooden bench. Leaning back with her hands settling on her thighs her fingers tingled at the touch of fabric of her jeans, her head titled slightly to the side. She let a moment of silence linger between the two strangers on the bench waiting for the local stores to open.

Then never being one for awkward silence Sarah spoke up in a light conversational tone, "Interesting read?" Her eyes drifted to the book he had hastily closed upon her arrival. Of course, she was completely unaware how interesting the book was. Unfortunately it seemed that her attempt at trying to rid herself of her memories of the Labyrinth, stirred up by her recent nightmare, weren't going to go away as easily as she hope.

Ian blinked again and turned to look at the young woman. She was probably just about the same age as himself, and what Ian would describe as a "dark beauty," dark hair and dark eyes. And though Ian had been about to slide the book into one of the side pockets of his messenger bag, suddenly the question was out there.

**"Interesting read?"**

Ian gave a small, slightly embarrassed smile. "Uh, well, I just started it, actually. Seems interesting... some sort of fairy tale, I think. It was a gift," Ian said with shrug, running his hand over the cover and then, because he didn't want to seem as though he had stopped everything he was doing JUST because he was no longer alone on the bench, opened the book back to where he had left off.

"How about you? Shopping for anything exciting today?" Ian asked, thinking it would be rude to only respond to the young woman's questions without posing any of his own: if a person took even a cursory interest in you, you should take some interest in them... it was polite.

Sarah hadn't had any intention on speaking with the young man at all. Upon her approach she had been set on sitting there and let herself get lost in her own world. Though this was probably a lucky turn of events as if Sarah had let herself get lost in her own world she…would…get lost. Besides, she liked meeting new people and this stranger was handsome and most importantly he was polite and kind.

Her eyes caught a glimpse of the open book and the script on the page. Her line of sight only catching the end of the sentence, "…Right now." Certainly nothing to perk her interest and she wasn't going to pursue it because that was getting too personal. She had only just met him.

Instead she answered his question with a small shrug of her shoulders, her blouse shifting with the movement. "Clothes and that's as exciting as it'll get for me today." Sarah was still intent on keeping her mind and day as excitement free as humanly possible…no nightmares, talking trees, dwarfs; that unfortunately didn't come when you called, goblins, and…him.

She nonchalantly lifted a hand to tuck a strand of stray brown locks behind her ear. "And yourself? It is a perfect day to get lost in a good read."

Ian gave a little chuckle. "Actually, the good reading has happened wholly by accident. I came down here for a morning stroll, saw the bookstore was open, and, lo and behold, there was a book waiting there for me, already paid for," Ian relayed, suddenly thinking to himself that it was, indeed, a very interesting set of circumstances. _I must have racked up some good karma..._

"Anyway, since I was already out here, I had figured it would be as good a time as any to do some last-minute clothes shopping before heading back to school... jeans, some shirts... socks! I almost forgot about socks..." Ian trailed off, realizing that he had just rambled to some stranger that he was in need of socks. "Hmm, well that was an over-share," Ian said embarrassed before he grinned and took a long drink of coffee.

Sarah cracked a smirk at his over-share. Her eyes shifting down to her lap and then back to him appearing almost as embarrassed as he was. That had been cutely amusing and there were few things she placed in those two categories. Toby could manage it but then again he was her young brother. Cute and amusing were two of the things he was best at. Not that she was comparing this young man to her brother. It was merely the fact of getting her to smirk at anything. That didn't go to say she didn't smirk at things…it was just today…getting her to find humor in something when she felt this dark cloud lurking around the corner.

Well, she wasn't about to let him hang there, embarrassed. Somehow he had turned that cloud away or at least helped it linger back further. To sum it up simply; she was in a better mood.

"I'm Sarah," she stated, extending an open hand. If they were going to over share she might as well 'over share' her name.

"Ian," he said with a smirk, taking Sarah's hand into a gentle handshake. Inside, Ian chuckled a bit. _Good job... act like a dork, make a friend..._ he said to himself, beaming at Sarah. In the distance, a clock began to chime loudly with several gong-like bells, and many of the doors of the shops popped open or flipped their signs. Ian's eyes followed the helter-skelter procession before turning back to Sarah and giving her a mischievous grin.

Ian suddenly leapt and gave Sarah a deep, sweeping bow. "Might I have the honor of escorting you," Ian requested with flourish, his head cocked up just enough that he could still see her in his bent state, "my lady?" With that, Ian extended a hand and waited. He was in a silly mood, thanks to a silly book, and he wanted nothing more than to be silly with someone who was obviously already aware of how weird he was, and maybe she wouldn't care.

It was probably the most out-of-character, bold thing Ian had ever done. But it felt fun.

Her face lit up with a smile full of fond memories. Before her eyes Ian, along with the scenery of trees and quaint shops, began to dissolve and shaped into something special. With a sparkling haze in Ian's place stood a knightly fox alongside his trusty stead of a dog and the scenery took the shape of a magnificent forest. "…my lady. Should you need us…" the fox recalled with a deep bow of his head.

She replied in a whisper, "I do." And then as Sarah blinked away a glistening of tears everything returned to normal without an ounce of proof that anything had changed at all. The smile on the dark beauties face faltered and she quickly returned to reality realizing now Ian must think her the odd one. She cleared her throat quickly and looked to him, "Yes…of course."

She collected herself and rose from her seat on the bench. Her mind was still a bit hazed with a memory she was unsure she had wanted to have or the reasons it came out at all…but what she did know now was that there was this delightful young man who was acting silly. And, if there was anyone that could appreciate a bout of silliness and play along was Sarah Williams. Putting her smile back on, shoulders back, and chin up, she extended her hand once more. "Lead the way my, good sir."

Ian hesitated for a second, the smile on his own face faltering. He could have sworn that Sarah had come close to tears and said, 'I do.' But, in an instant, it was over, and Sarah was on her feet. Ian took her hand and swung himself around gracefully, grabbing his bag and book from the bench as he went, so the pair ended arm in arm. And, with that, Ian began to lead her down the promenade.

"So, Lady Sarah, dost thou wish to sample the wares at 'Le Gap,' or, perhaps, 'Ye Olde American Eagle?' Ian asked with a wave of his hand, maintaining a very official and serious demeanor with a twinkle in his eye. The mall was still peaceful and quiet at this point in the morning, despite the dozens of shoppers that had turned out to get their errands out of the way before sun rose too high in the sky.

In his pocket, the cash from Ian's final two summer paychecks were busy burning the proverbial hole into his pocket, and the plethora of 'Back to School Sale' signs was certainly not lost on the young man.

"Additionally, my lady, are there specifics as to the nature of the garments we are in search of... or, to put it simply," Ian said with a chuckle before switching over to the Southern accent he generally reserved for his Virginian relatives, "what kinda clothes do ya need?"

Sarah laughed with her eyes twinkling in amusement. She had only met Ian and already he was tickling her funny bone and raising memories of dear friends. As the laughter quickly drifted from her lips she decided to take a moment to seriously think about the question posed. She took on a serious demeanor with a crinkle in her slender dark brows and pursed pink lips.

"Actually…I haven't given much thought to it," she confessed as her eyes darted to the pavement under the pair of brown boots she was wearing. Why had she decided to go shopping when she hadn't a clue what she needed? Possibly to just get out of the house. To get away from something. She glanced back to him. "I suppose I could use more socks as well," a light grin crossing her lips.

She allowed a moment of silence to pass before she spoke up again in a light tone, "So, sir Ian. I know absolutely nothing about you and yet here you are offering to go shopping with a…girl…" she out a small laugh knowing many men who would cringe at the mere word, shopping.

Across the park sat a motorcycle with a woman on it who seemed to be flipping through a phone book that appeared to have been ripped from some nearby pay phone. Every now and then the helmeted figure could be seen looking around the street as if to suggest they were lost and trying to find a particular street name. Another tourist probably. It was hard to say. Even if the college aged couple had looked the motorcyclist's way nothing would have seemed out of the ordinary. If they had been up close Sarah and Ian might of heard the person angrily utter the word "Bullocks!" as the phone book was thrown to the pavement and abandoned. Whatever the person had been looking for it would seem they hadn't found it.

Ian's face contorted into a mask of mock-offense. "OH, _now_ you need socks?!" he accused, with the pretense of being utterly appalled. "You're a shameful copy-cat..." Ian managed to squeak out before nearly collapsing in laughter.

Once he re-composed himself, Ian gave Sarah a wink. "Alright, sock-shopping it is then. How bad can shopping with a girl be? I mean, don't you just try on a few things to make sure of sizes, and then pick out all the stuff you like? That's how I do it..." Ian said thoughtfully, wondering if girls really _**HAD**_ to be that different... or maybe they _**CHOSE**_ to be different to annoy men... Ian suppressed a giggle at this thought.

It suddenly dawned on Ian that they had simply been walking along, talking, and not paying really any attention to the stores as they went, and now they were in one of the less-central areas, not really near any of the major stores. Ian laughed and brought them to a halt. "Maybe we should decide where we want to go before we walk right on out of the mall..." Ian glanced back and forth, trying to spy a directory kiosk.

"Besides, if shopping with you becomes _truly_ challenging, I'll just... well... I'll say..." Ian thought for a moment, a confuddled grin on his face, trying to remember the line. It came to him suddenly.

"I wish the Goblins would come and take me away... RIGHT NOW!" Ian stated with a triumphant giggle.

Sarah felt as if hell had frozen over, leading to the chill that tingled up her spine and caused her stomach to twist into a double knot. Moments ago she had felt light and carefree, enjoying a lovely day of shopping with a polite, nice young man and then he had to go and say 'that'. She wasn't joining in with his giggles…the last thing she could do was giggle. Instead she quickly turned on him, long dark locks shifting over her shoulder, and hard eyes narrowing in on him. She wasn't amused.

"How could you say that!?" She exclaimed as she closed in on him in an almost intimidating mannerism. He couldn't have meant it. You had to mean it when you said it. You had to really want it. Besides, did it even work with a 'me'? Could you wish yourself to be taken?

Her eyes wide and nostrils flared she started to realize she must seem like a complete nutjob. Here Ian was probably thinking he'd made a new friend and now she turned out to be a complete psycho. Taking that into quick realization, Sarah, took a steady step back, spared a glance over the surrounding area for anything out of the ordinary (nothing, but that didn't put her at ease), and turned back to inhale a breath.

"Sorry," she muttered but her mind was reeling and she couldn't settle down that quickly. She canted her head in his direction and her tone of voice lowered drastically, "…where did you learn that?"

Just as Sarah turned around and started questioning Ian the sound of a news paper ruffling could be heard about three feet away. "I do believe it should be quite obvious where your friend here has learned that fascinating little line."

The voice was so much like someone else's Sarah knew and yet there were some specific differences. Namely that the person speaking was a woman and not a man and that where Jareth's tone had been ever mocking to the ear this stranger's tone was more decidedly peevish. "And any way, I'm sure you've noticed, he didn't say the words right."

The Woman speaking was a little over 5'9 (though the hair made her look about an inch taller) and sporting short blond motorcycle hair that wisped out at unruly angles. It was almost but not quite like a short cut mane. But what was perhaps the most unnerving was that there was something frighteningly familiar about the way the woman's mouth curled slightly downward into a deeply embedded frown. Making a person wonder if the twenty something woman ever smiled. As for the woman's eyes they were hidden under thick sunglasses that totally obscured one's ability to see her face.

"Now," "I think it would be wise to advise your friend there to hand over the book he's got in his pocket. You of all people should know just how dangerous it is...Isn't that right, Sarah?" At that a black gloved hand clamped down on Ian's shoulder.

Ian gaped at Sarah. It was as if Ian had unwittingly spewed forth a volley of curse words in a language he didn't understand that somehow conveyed a connection between Sarah's family and a herd of inbred gophers; she seemed that angry. Then Sarah got quiet and asked, "...where did you learn that?"

Ian's initial response would have been something to the effect of 'it's some stupid line in a kid's book,' but Ian never got the chance to speak. Someone else had intruded upon them: a blonde-maned biker chick with a seemingly poor attitude. Words passed from the woman to Sarah, as though Ian didn't exist in the weird alternate reality they seemed to be in.

_"I think it would be wise to advise your friend there to hand over the book he's got in his pocket. You of all people should know just how dangerous it is...Isn't that right, Sarah?"_

At this, Ian finally found his voice. "My book? What does this have to do with my book?" Ian asked quietly, trying to read the reactions of the women that stood before him. _Dangerous?_ Ian had no problem believing that books could be "dangerous," or rather that books had the power to change how people viewed the world, and thus could endanger the status quo... but it seemed to Ian that these women were not talking about anything so intangible. _And a 'fascinating little line'... that phrase from the book... she said I said it... wrong..?_ Ian thought, for a split second, to reach into his pocket and check the book, but he quickly ruled that out: somehow it didn't seem like a good idea to be showing off the item this woman apparently wanted. _Better to take the innocent route_.

"Um, ma'am," Ian said quietly to the newcomer, "we're really sorry if we disturbed you, but I think, perhaps, you might have mistaken us for someone else, and we're actually late in meeting up with our friends, so if you'll excuse us..." Ian trailed off and stepped between the woman and Sarah, if only to give Sarah a chance to run for it if this woman proved both crazy _**AND**_ hostile.

Upon the woman's first appearance Sarah felt mesmerized. Who was she? How did she know her name? Where had she come from? How did she know such things about the Labyrinth and its inhabitants…. and why did she seem so familiar? All of these questions unable to properly form inside of her head with a logical answer. Those wide brown eyes looked at the open, her jaw slightly agape unsure how to respond.

A book? But more importantly how did Ian come upon a book like that? She didn't need to be told twice by the mysterious woman that the book was dangerous. That was just displayed by Ian's sputter of dialogue he didn't understand. But, she wasn't blaming him, he probably came upon the book by accident…he said it was a gift…

Her attention faltered on the woman as suddenly that scene evaporated before her eyes. Again the quaint shops, began to dissolve and shape themselves into something else. And there stood a knightly fox alongside his trusty stead of a dog and the scenery took the shape of a magnificent forest. "...my lady. Should you need us..." the fox recalled with a deep bow of his head. But was this a trick of the eye?

She turned to view Ian still there speaking with the woman. "…um, ma'am…" And then Sarah looked back to the other view of Sir Didymus.. Was he real? Was it all in her head? And most importantly did she need him?

"….so if you'll excuse us..." Ian trailed off and stepped between the woman and Sarah, if only to give Sarah a chance to run for it if this woman proved both crazy AND hostile.

Sarah turned away and came back to the reality that was before her…or what she hoped to be. Nonchalantly she lifted a hand and settled it upon Ian's shoulder as a sign of gratitude towards his attempt at protection even though she felt she needed none…naïve on her part…as usual. Staying close to Ian but peering over his shoulder from behind him her attention was fully focused on the woman. Who to trust? There was this woman that seemed to know so much but something about her…and then Ian and the book…having the book in his possession…finding Sarah of all people…everything got so confusing so suddenly.

Pursing her lips and brows narrowed in a momentary thought before she spoke up in a tone of voice that hopefully covered her moment of uncertainty, "The books staying with Ian until you tell us who you are and why you are here."

Fiona's eyes narrowed behind her glasses as she peered at Sarah. The blond wasn't sure what she had exactly been expecting to find in one, Sarah William's but the young woman was acting exceptionally brave for a person in her position. Then again maybe it wasn't bravery Fiona was really looking at. Time to reassess the situation.

"You know at first I thought I was going to have to track you completely down in order to get where I'm going, but you see now that I've had the good fortune of coming across a second unused book I don't really think I'll be needing your help after all." Actually Fiona hadn't intended to ask for Sarah's _help_ in the first place. Her initial plan had been only to use the young woman in whatever means was necessary to cross into the Underground. Fiona had been searching such an awfully long time for a means to track down Jareth, that she's practically forgotten how to be polite.

"Hm. Yes, I see your point. Let us backtrack a little then, shall we?" Fiona took a step back from the duo putting down her hands palms up to show she was indeed being genuine about her desire to talk to them peacefully. "I can only assume by association..." By association Fiona had meant that Sarah had either by fate or design stumbled across another little red book that had the ability to introduce people to the strange world of the Underground and the Labyrinth within it. "That you are, Sarah Williams. The same Sarah Williams who had an unfortunate run in with a certain conniving gentleman with big poofy hair and a most disagreeable disposition."

Fiona didn't wait for Sarah to either confirm or deny that she had any idea what Fiona was talking about. "Now it just so happens I have some long belated business with his Gobliness and it just so happens that I'm in need of that little red book to conclude my affair."

Fiona turned her head to look at Ian "Whether you know it or not my good man, that book has the power to take you places you've only ever dreamed. But as your friend Sarah is well familiar with not all dreams are pleasant ones once they come true." At that Fiona straightened to her full height and began to peel off one thin black motorcycle glove so that she could remove her sunglasses out of her line of vision. "Seeing as I suppose your not just going to give me the book and I have no real desire to take it from you by force unless absolutely necessary, I'm willing just this one time to make you something of a trade. If you give me that book, I'll give you something far more valuable in trade for it."

Unlike Jareth, Fiona was perfectly capable of being both fair and reasonable when the situation called for it although her sense of patience in achieving her ends wasn't nearly as developed as the Goblin King's was.

Ian's eyes grew wider as the woman continued to speak, her words not making any sense to him. Sarah hadn't shown any signs of recognizing the woman, but obviously the woman knew her. And what actually bothered Ian the most was that, thus far, the woman had spoken to Sarah as if Ian didn't exist. Ian never managed to defend himself against being ignored: as a child, Ian's schoolmates had turned ignoring the 'weird kid' into a cruel game.

Ian could feel the anger boiling inside him. He felt his body begin to shift against Sarah's hand, pulling away from the young woman and moving instinctively toward the blonde woman. He wanted to stand directly in front of her and scream, scream until she acknowledged his presence. And then:

_"Seeing as I suppose your not just going to give me the book and I have no real desire to take it from you by force unless absolutely necessary, I'm willing just this one time to make you something of a trade. If you give me that book, I'll give you something far more valuable in trade for it."_

She had addressed him. And not just that, she wanted the book. And she was willing to give him something if he handed it over willingly. Ian smirked.

"Ma'am, I hate to tell you this, but you're talkin' to the wrong guy. I'm not interested whatever it is you're peddling, and I'm not the kind of person who's motivated by greed," Ian said, looking down at the ground. Something else had come to Ian's attention: the woman spoke without emotion. No anger, no sadness... what was her deal?

Sarah had abandoned her demeanor of complete befuddlement and substituted it with something more serious. She had to assess the situation, quickly, and clearly. Here was this mysterious blond woman who appeared out of nowhere completely knowledgeable of Sarah and her experience in the Underground. Perhaps not fully aware of all the details is enough to question the younger woman.

Obvious questions that popped to mind where; why her? Why was she suddenly being led back into a world she wanted nothing to do with anymore. Yes, she missed her friends but she had grown out of her fantasy and came back to reality because she couldn't live in her fantasy. It wasn't fair.

Unfairness aside, she felt awful that this young man was being thrown into this. "Ma'am, I hate to tell you this, but you're talkin' to the wrong guy. I'm not interested whatever it is you're peddling, and I'm not the kind of person who's motivated by greed…"Sarah came out of her thoughts and back to the words being exchanged.

So that she wasn't utterly confused; this woman that she never met wanted the book that Ian possessed that supposedly has a link to the Underground. That all seemed correct and yet Sarah felt everything was completely off about it. Her nightmare…this woman's…familiarity…

Naïve or not Sarah felt from past experience she could deal with this woman, understand her, or at least get Ian out of this unharmed. Sarah's eyes narrowed and she took on a stern demeanor as she stepped up beside Ian. "What could you possibly give that could surpass what 'he' could offer," she countered with a small spark.

"I don't bloody well know what my _brother_ offered you, however I suspect like most things he promises; you were left disadvantaged and disappointed in the end." Fiona said sharply as she adressed Sarah again.

Fiona turned back on Ian. "My offer however is legitimate. Incidentally, due to circumstances beyond my control I have no use for the item I'm offering up for trade. You could say it's something like an all purpose skeleton key. You use it to pass from one place to another. It's as simple as passing through a door. Obviously it's of no use to me otherwise I'd have used it to get into the Underground by now." Fiona began to rummage in the side pocket of her leather jacket until she produced a square thin bar made of something that looked like silver. It was only about the size of a match box and on it was a strange image of what looked like a z-shaped rod overlaid with a snake.

"With this no wall will ever bar you, no prison ever hold you. You will always be able to go where ever you like." Fiona looked as if she was about to set the object in Ian's hand but then suddenly pulled back. "But, I will warn you that this item is not to be used lightly. Every bargain has a price." It seemed Fiona had every intention of being forth coming about the trinket which was another thing that separated her from Jareth in mannerism. "Don't go using this unless you have great need of it. Magic can be overpowering to someone who isn't used to it and something can't come from nothing. The power of this symbol depends entirely upon what you put into it. If nothing else I can promise it will serve to protect you from a plethora of unpleasant _things_."

Fiona looked back at Sarah with eyes that looked exactly how Jareth's might have had it not been for the fact that one eye of his was unnerving dilated completely black. Sarah knew there to be all sorts of _things_ in the world to need protecting from. "I feel I'm being more than generous."

Ian glanced over to Sarah as she stepped up beside him, feeling suddenly a tad safer with the change that came over the dark beauty. Ian had originally pegged Sarah for a more demure personality, but he was wrong. There was a fiery side of Sarah, and Ian had a feeling this was just a taste of her more assertive side.

**"What could you possibly give that could surpass what 'he' could offer?"**

This caused Ian to actually turn and stare for a moment. Was Sarah _haggling_ with this woman? And who was this "he" who had suddenly entered the conversation. What did Sarah know about all this? It was instantly very clear that Ian had stepped into something that he was not going to fully understand, even if one of these women did stop for a second and explain it to him. _As if THAT'S going to happen_, Ian thought ruefully. And then Ian has his answer: this woman's brother was the man Sarah had referred to... a man who must be in this Underground place that the woman was speaking of.

The woman held out her hand, which contained the little metal piece with the strange markings. Ian looked down at her hand, and then back up at the woman. Her last remark... her generosity... sent a distinctive chill through Ian's body, as though the very nature of her generosity was something dark and foreign. Still... the metal gleamed strangely at Ian. _Magic... did she say magic...?_ Ian's mouth went dry. _No wall will ever bar you... no prison ever hold you..._ Ian's vision went slightly blurry, and his hand moved, as if on its own, toward the messenger-bag pocke Honestly, Sarah was a tad disturbed that this woman was claiming to be Jareth's sister. The mere thought of someone out there having the same genes as the Goblin King...more then one Jareth? That was almost as disturbing as Jareth having offspring...well...not entirely...okay, she was getting side tracked. She had to be serious. 

What if she was telling the truth? She was related...then why couldn't she get into the Underground herself? What business would she want with Jareth? As much as Sarah despised the man deep down she didn't want to cause any harm to him...unless she did the 'harm', that is. She momentarily recalled the dream she had last night and now this? Was it connected? Was something wrong?

She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, her mind wandering away, she was hardly paying attention to the woman after she had claimed to be Jareth's sister..."...I'm being more than generous."

And that's when Sarah snapped along with her hand. Out of the corner of her eye she had seen Ian deeply considering her offer...so much so he was going for the book. Her own hand clamped onto his own, the one reaching inside the bag, and she held tight. "Hold on," she said her eyes moving to Jareth's sister. "Generous?" Sarah exclaimed. "Do you really think I'm going to fall for that? If you are who you say you are...related...to...Jareth...if you know about me...then you know that any generosity in your family is false. You said that yourself. You are left disadvantaged and disappointed..." she trailed off a moment to collect her thoughts, "Besides, shouldn't being in the same bloodline give you direct access to the Underground?" t that contained the little red book.

_Why Jareth you have been busy haven't you_. Fiona thought vindictively to herself. "I don't know the particulars about your experience in the Underground. All I know is that you were there at one point. That sort of thing doesn't happen very often anymore with the way the world is today. Theoretically if you've been there once you should be able to get there again which is why I've spent the last few years trying to discover where you live."

It suddenly occurred to the blond woman that she had made something of a mistake in choosing to approach Sarah and her friend in a seemingly hostile manner. But how was she to know Sarah would have a bone to pick with Fiona's relations? "Well I can see Jareth has given you a rather bad impression of our family." Fiona was visibly vexed.

"Anyway, I think your expectations regarding just how much control you think I, or my damnable brother, have over either of our situations is a bit unrealistic." Fiona was staring at Sarah as if she couldn't believe she was being forced to stand there and explain herself. "I can no more cross worlds at will, than Jareth can. There's a catch in our separate though equally vexing situations." Fiona was getting extremely impatient by this time and having to discuss her brother was not improving her disposition.

Sarah's grip on his wrist brought Ian back to reality in a blink. The fuzziness around him cleared, and Ian suddenly felt cooler and more alert. "Ow," he said quietly though, as Sarah was squeezing his hand rather hard. Then she said it. _Jareth... where have I heard that name before..?_ Ian thought, realizing all too quickly that Jareth was the name of the Goblin King in the little red book. _His Goblinness... are they talking about this dude as if he were for real?!_

Ian felt his eyes grow wide, and he turned and stared at Sarah with unabashed confusion. And the woman began to reply:

"Well I can see Jareth has given you a rather bad impression of our family. Anyway, I think your expectations regarding just how much control you think I, or my damnable brother, have over either of our situations is a bit unrealistic. I can no more cross worlds at will than Jareth can. There's a catch in our separate though equally vexing situations."

Ian finally found the will to speak. "Jareth... your brother... the Goblin... King... okay, seriously, am I on Punked or something?" Ian demanded, pulling away from Sarah's grasp and taking a few steps away from the women.

Sarah looked wide eyed at Ian as if he had said the most ridiculous thing possible. But, then again, she had to give him credit for not completely freaking out. If she were his age and just discovering this information she probably wouldn't believe it either. She almost wished she could point, laugh, and tell him he was just 'Punked' but such wishes were foolish. Instead she simply shook her head with a serious expression that wasn't to be questioned. Honestly, she wasn't sure how to answer him. Go sit in the corner and finish reading the book would be an answer that came to mind.

Putting her hand back to her side she turned so her body was half turned and standing between the two. What was she supposed to do now? Her sudden jolt of courage and contradiction was distinguishing. Sarah didn't trust this woman for obvious reasons. What she needed to do was get away from her, talk to Ian, and find out what the hell was going on from someone she did trust.

Taking a breath she focused her attention on Ian, whom she did trust, to an extent and lowered her voice, "I know this is really confusing and I'd be happy to explain it but I don't think...she..." she made half a shoulder shrug to Jareth's sister, "...would appreciate waiting. I know magic is enticing, believe me, I've wanted it...but there is a price to every deal."

Sarah lowered her voice, "I know this is really confusing and I'd be happy to explain it but I don't think...she...would appreciate waiting. I know magic is enticing, believe me, I've wanted it...but there is a price to every deal."

Ian felt his face grow hot, and, suddenly, a torrent of emotions welled up and out of him. "You're right, Sarah, we shouldn't make her wait," Ian said with a bite to his words, yanking the book from his bag. He held it up, like a damning piece of evidence.

"This was supposed to be a birthday present. It's August now... my birthday was back in March. Nearly five months. Do you want to know what my parents did for my birthday?!" Ian growled. "They sent a card and some cash. No party, no dinner... and it's not like I'm that far away!"

Ian looked down at the book in his hand. "This would have made a great gift... but my parents couldn't be bothered to remember that they had even bought it, much less wrapped it and given it to me." Ian's red watery eyes met Sarah's.

"Sometimes, the thought just isn't enough. Not when thought has replaced action for so many years," Ian said in a dull, flat sort of way. His hand was shaking. "I could care less about this thing. And if this woman wants it that badly, then she should have it, because it sounds like it'll make her a helluva lot happier than it will me. And if everything goes to shit because she has it... well, that's life then, I guess..."

Ian turned sharply and took the little piece of metal from the woman's hand just before slapping the book into it. "I hope this makes you happy," Ian said somewhat grudgingly. "I certainly wouldn't-- ah-OOOOOOOOOOOOW!" his words disappeared in a scream of pain. Ian's hand had clutched around the piece of metal, and he couldn't seem to release it. Which was a problem, considering it was both brilliantly hot and was sending blindingly painful shots of electricity through his arm. The pain crescendo-ed into a pulsing wave, sending Ian to his knees. He grasped his wrist with his free hand and shook it violently, trying to dislodge the metal, and suddenly it was over.

Ian turned his hand over to see... nothing. The metal piece was gone. His hand wasn't scalded or red or anything. Ian frowned deeply and turned his hand again. He gasped.

There, on the back of Ian's hand, was a bizarre black tattoo. It looked, at first, like a yin-yang-esque sun, with little squiggly rays emanating from it. But upon closer inspection, Ian found that the dark half was more of a crescent moon shape... actually, a snake, coiled back and forth on itself to form a black crescent that blotted out half of the little sun.

"A black snake eclipsing the sun..." Ian whispered.

Leave it to the enticement of magic to get what one wanted. For the first time Fiona's mouth arched into something of a slight smile. Surprisingly however the expression had no malice it it nor pompousness. It was a simple basic smile of accomplishment that was instantly replaced by a genuine startled expression the moment Ian started yelling. What the hell?

Fiona's mouth opened and then closed as she backed away from the young man a bit. While Fiona had a basic idea of what the trinket was meant for she hadn't predicted the thing would bind itself to the user upon contact. Well that was certainly a bullet dodged. For a second Fiona almost felt guilty for pawning off a magical item that she wasn't a hundred percent familiar with. But then again the trinket was Ian's problem now and not hers.

Now that she had the book the blond had other more pressing matters to attend to. "Thank you." She said bluntly still backing away from them. "Now, while I really hate to break up this little gathering I'm afraid I have some business to attend too." Fiona's features took on a serious set and maybe one that was a little regretful. Nevertheless with the book now firmly pressed to her chest. Fiona narrowed her eyes. A fiercely determined edge seemed to encompass her gaze that was perhaps not exactly piercing like her brother's, but scalding instead. "I wish..."

It should have been a predictable situation but then again who would have suspected the blond's intention now that she'd come this far. Fiona suddenly pointed purposefully at Ian and in a commanding voice that left no doubt how strongly she meant it, Fiona uttered the same words Sarah had once said years ago. "I wish the goblins would come and take you away. Right...Now."

The moment the words were spoken an eerie still came over the area and then just when one got the sinking sensation that the world was about to go spinning upside down…

Nothing happened.

"Damn," Sarah muttered as other few choice phrases came to mind as she stared in astonishment at what unfolded before her. "You idiot...you moron...I told you so." But she didn't voice them openly. It wasn't Ian's fault he didn't know or understand what he had just done. She understood the attraction of magic...finally realizing that there was magic in the world...the stress of your life building up, the people effecting it, everything, and then you could just wish it all away. She had been there. She had gone through all of that and she had learned from her mistakes and decisions. But, she couldn't warn him in time. Instead there was an eerie tattoo of unknown magic on his hand.

And the book? ..."I wish the goblins would come and take you away. Right...Now."

Sarah's blood ran cold in her veins, her heart felt like it had stopped beating, and stomach did a summersault as she stood like a deer caught in headlights. She knew this woman was no good. She should have taken off minutes ago, run down the street to somewhere safe, or to police and pose the woman as a stalker...which in reality she certainly could be seen as one. Trying to find Sarah for years...just to get to the Underground...to accomplish...something.

But the anticipation was short lived. Nothing happened. She felt the moisture drawn from her lips and she slid her tongue over their pink surface in an apprehensive manner. Nothing happened...that didn't calm her nerves. Actually, Sarah took the brief moment to move over to Ian, gingerly set a hand to his shoulder, looked at him with urgent and pleading brown eyes, and said, ''We need to get out of here...Now." Before something did happen.

Feeling the light pressure of Sarah's hand on his shoulder, Ian turned and looked up from his crouched position. His eyes welled up with tears, and he still clutched his hand. "It hurts..." Ian said softly. But looking at Sarah seemed to snap Ian back to reality, and he nodded.

"Okay," he said, standing up slowly, a wave of dizziness and mild nausea washing over him. His hand felt cold and was enveloped in a dull ache, like a massive bruise. Ian held it close to his chest and glared in the other woman's direction. "Where should we go?" Ian said to Sarah, though his eyes never left the woman still holding the red book, who was looking confused and perhaps a touch apprehensive.

Ian wanted to laugh in the woman's face. She had tried to blast him away to God-Knows-Where, but it obviously hadn't worked. _So much for magic_, was Ian's first thought, before he came to the rueful realization that the pain in his hand was a direct result of the same power. He tightened and relaxed his fist a few times. The ache was a constant throb...

Strange wispy images floated around the back of Ian's mind; nothing that came clear or distinctive.

Meanwhile, Fiona was impatiently waiting for something, anything to happen. "Bullocks!" She finally muttered prying the red book from her chest to quickly page through it to make sure she'd triggered the enchantment correctly. It seemed the woman had completely lost interest in Sarah and Ian for the moment. This ironically gave them ample time to get away. Course then again assuming the enchantment was triggered Fiona didn't really need to go chasing after them. According to her research the goblins would come for Ian sooner or later and hopefully by association Jareth would also be making an appearance. That was what Fiona was really after anyway. Getting into the Labyrinth was really just a means of getting to Jareth and seeing as she hadn't found a way to make the Goblin King linger in the mortal realm there was little choice but to face him within his own territory. While this presented it's own unique problem Fiona had decided she'd deal with matters as they happened.

Just when she was beginning to think all her efforts had been in vein the wind suddenly began to slowly pick up. Perhaps she'd gotten it right after all? "It really isn't going to do you any good to run." Fiona called to the duo suddenly remembering Sarah and Ian were there. "What's done is done. I'm sorry to say that sooner rather then later you friend is going to be the possession of the Goblin King." Despite the fact that Fiona was knowingly damning an innocent person to the Underground, the potential reward was far greater in the long run. Jareth had abandoned her long enough. It was high time that someone see to it that the Goblin King held true to his other longer standing obligations.

Sarah wasted no time taking Ian's uninjured hand, tightly grasped his hand, and lead him away. She wasn't sure where she intended to lead them, she wasn't even sure where they were anymore. The woman's words echoing in her ears, "...your friend is going to be the possession of the Goblin King." The thought put butterflies in her stomach. She hardly knew Ian but damning her soft heart she couldn't walk away and see that happen.

If the goblins were coming for Ian and if he did show up maybe she could do something. The last thing she wanted was another Toby fiasco.

As they moved down the alley way Sarah spared a glance over her shoulder to take notice that the woman wasn't in clear sight. The bemused brunette decided to take a moment to share a few choice words with Ian. She turned to him while releasing her hold on his hand. "You idiot." Okay, maybe yelling at him wasn't the right route to go. 

She lifted up a hand to whip away strands of hair that were obscuring her vision as the breeze whistled down the alley. She quickly turned to a softer tone and explained, "This isn't a fairy tale and while fairies may be real, nasty things..."she shook her head clearing her thoughts, "...but that's not the point. The point is; goblins, fairies, magic..." she made a motion to his branded hand, "...they are all real and dangerous. If the Goblin King finds you he will take you away and turn you into a goblin."

Ian allowed Sarah to pull him away, barely hearing the woman speak. His mind was numb. Every so often, he saw brief flickers of strange places... strange people... strange buildings. Ian struggled to focus, but found himself drifting farther and farther down into the warm depths of drowsiness. All he wanted to do was sleep. His hand still throbbed, but it was less noticeable now, and his head felt cottony.

Sarah was speaking to him... she called him an idiot... fairies are nasty... Goblin King will turn him into a goblin... Ian let out a deep sigh.

"Jareth..." he whispered, feeling silly. The whole thing was one big weird game of make-believe. Which was fine by Ian... make-believe was fun. To be liberated from the bonds that distressed and frightened him. To be free...

Ian's eyes flashed open. He stared at Sarah hard for a moment, and his expression became stony. "What's your brother's name, Sarah?" It sounded more like an accusation than a question.

Ian was prowling around the dark beauty in circles, his eyes scrutinizing her. "You're the girl from the story... the one whose brother was taken by Jareth. Which means you knew all about this... didn't you?!" Ian bellowed. He couldn't tell where the anger was coming from, and it wouldn't stop coming. He knew that this wasn't Sarah's fault, and that he would never have believed her even if she HAD told him, but still he yelled.

And the tattoo throbbed.

Sarah's jaw unhinged at Ian's dramatic change in character. Was he accusing her? That this was all her fault? That only fueled her own anger that she had been trying to keep under control but his persistent prowling around her like a tiger was becoming exceptionally irritating. In the end she felt it only appropriate to return fire, "I didn't know a damn thing about this."

She craned her head to follow him and continued in a high flame, "All I wanted to do was spend some time shopping for the things I need to have a normal life. But, no, I run into you." The wind down the narrow pathway was picking up causing strands of dark locks to whip back behind her. 

In reality yelling at one another and throwing the blame wasn't going to solve anything...but it did help a little. She continued, "I didn't give you that book, I wasn't the moron that said, I wish...drawing that woman's attention," she jabbed a single digit off down the abyss of the alley behind them. "And it sure as hell isn't my fault that you took that stupid...thing...and now have that tattoo!"

While the two argued Fiona was busy slipping her glove back on. It was a force of habit really and one she'd picked up over the endless decades. While magical relics weren't easy to find anymore there had once been a time when they were relatively common place in the world. So for someone like Fiona who made a habit of tracking down various trinkets of the past it was important to take some precaution when handling magically endowed artifacts. This point was made evident by the unexpected effect the Z-rod silver bar had had on Ian. Oops.

Finally out of the corner of her eye Fiona thought she saw something move and dash across the edges of her vision cackling to itself as it went. "Here we go. At least something's reliable around here." At that the blond women tucked the little red volume into her Jacket and placing her hands behind her back casually walking in the direction Sarah and Ian had run.

Sure enough the goblins were coming. This was the convoluted conversation that followed:

"Did you hear it?" One muttered in a wispy tone.

"Hear what?" A Particularly thick sounding goblin asked.

"I wish. She said it clear as day." The other goblin responded back.

"I'm tired let's get this over with..." Another muttered as it picked up a trash can lid and bean-ed its companion over the head cackling to itself in satisfaction.

"They went this way."

"No! Go that way I saw them run down there."

"Make up your mind."

There were about a dozen of them now. Popping out of trash bins and out from under benches. Sliding down storm gutters and darting like rats down the streets in search of their quarry. One even went as far as to climb up Sarah lighting quick like a snake to pull at her hair.

"You're not the one who said 'I wish..."

As Sarah returned his accusatory tirade with one of her own, the first thing that sprang to Ian's mind was this thought: _how DARE she speak to me in such a manner!_ Which struck Ian as a very odd thing to think, as he had never thought along those lines before. What puzzled Ian more was that he thoroughly agreed with much of what Sarah was saying, and was well aware that his current state was not her fault, and had, in general, no idea why he was lashing out at her at all.

Still, the thoughts came: _don't let her speak to you like this! She's just some silly girl. Some whiny girl who's just jealous that she doesn't have the tattoo_. These thoughts also confused Ian, as he realized that it was an entirely different voice than his own internal monologue. In that instant, a very sick and terrifying feeling swept over him, and Ian felt like he might become physically ill. Someone _ELSE_ was talking inside his head. The tattoo pulsed in his hand, and Ian looked down at it with a mixture of wonder and horror.

_So... is this the price I shall have to pay..?_ Ian questioned himself. As the thought this, the tattoo pulsed even harder, and Ian responded by thinking very hard, imagining that he was quashing the voice and spirit of the tattoo in his hand. The effect was instantaneous: he felt a large sense of anger and rebellion, but the tattoo's throb became very weak, hardly noticeably. Ian smiled a little and turned back to Sarah, intent on apologizing for his behavior.

His eyes found a creature atop Sarah head, its gnarled fingers tangled in her dark locks, its wrinkled face accusing her of something. They were surrounded by such creatures. Fat, thin, short, tall, furry, flabby, and maybe even comical and endearing if they hadn't been leaping about in droves, grabbing with other-worldly hands at their pants and shoelaces. Ian dealt a swift kick to one of the creatures, sending the little monstrosity flying across the alley, and he waded forward toward Sarah. With quick hands, and the experience that only hours upon hours of volunteer work at local animal shelters could provide, Ian grabbed the goblin swinging from Sarah's hair by the scruff of its neck. The goblin froze for a moment, shocked into loosening its grip, and Ian yanked it away from Sarah.

Ian held the goblin tightly by the neck and turned it to face him. "Hmmm, not so tough now, are you?" Ian stated, glaring at the tiny monster.

For the briefest of minutes the goblin in question caught up in Ian grasp gave the young man an almost docile look of shear innocence. Innocent, that is, until another little hooked nosed creature decided to sink its teeth into Ian ankle with the intent of getting him to let go. It wasn't enough to beak the skin but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. This instantly caused the one in Ian's hand to give I violent twist as it wriggled out of his grasp kicking him in the shin as it departed with a cackle.

"Bleck! This one doesn't taste like child! He's gone and left a funny taste in my mouth. Pewy!" The creature that had bit into Ian's leg muttered as it quickly scurried out of the way least it get stomped on.

"Da. What about the other one?" A bull doggish Goblin with horns muttered stupidly as it pointed heavily at Sarah.

"What? Are you deaf? She didn't say 'I wish' you stupid sod!" Another Goblin screeched from half way up a near by brick wall.

Snapped a fourth. "They're both too old. Besides THAT ones been through this before. Look at the hair. You can't tell me you're BLIND too. Mehehehehe."

"Well I say we take the whole lot of em. Let his Highness sort it out, that's part of his job aint it?" It appeared there was some level of confusion going on.

"Could we all stop this rubbish!!! Someone ask his Majesty what he wants us to do... I could be eating my sushi by now!"

Sarah was on high alert, her head turning this way and that to be sure she wasn't going to have any goblins climbing in her hair. She did take in the brief moment of Ian's bravery and taking the goblin off of her. So, he wasn't entirely mad at her...she wasn't sure what had sparked on that earlier argument to begin with...an argument they had yet to finish and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to finish.

The goblins seemed confused and in turn weren't giving Ian and Sarah their full attention. Sarah took this opportunity to slink back over to Ian, gently put an arm to his shoulder, and nudge him backwards. "Shall we leave and let them sort this alone?" It wasn't completely a suggestion as she really did think it was the key moment to high tail it out of there before the goblins came to any decision. 

Though, in the back of Sarah's mind, lurking like an itch, was the awful feeling that Jareth's odd absence didn't prove to be a good sign for her friends with the Labyrinth and it worried her. The itch almost made her want to stay and question the goblins but she knew that'd be putting Ian in danger. It was best to try and leave unnoticed for now. She could get information other ways.

Ian looked over at Sarah, and then back at the now-disorganized troop of... whatever they were. _Well, they must be goblins... 'I wish the Goblins would come and take you away...'_ Ian thought sardonically. Ian then realized the key point of all this: he was the one they were here to take away. Hadn't that woman looked directly at HIM and said those words?! So why were the little nasties so interested in Sarah...

Ian nodded to Sarah and began to creep backward with her, away from the throng of leathery, fuzzball creatures. "You have a plan?" Ian whispered.

It didn't take long for Fiona to reach the place Sarah and Ian had run off to. After all it was really just a matter of following the goblins. Speaking of goblins when Fiona did in fact round the corner she was disappointed when she discover Ian still standing with Sarah, the Goblins apparently engaging in argumentative discussion, and absolutely no Goblin King in sight.

"Bullox." Fiona muttered keeping an eye on Sarah and Ian while she inquired what was going on. "You! Come here."

The goblin in question, a rather small furry little creature, spun to discover who had called it. "Oie, what do _you_ want? Can't you see were deliberating over here?" It asked with an irritating lisp.

"Yes. Well I am sorry to interrupt. But you see you and I have something of a pressing problem. I wished that young man away (Fiona pointed at Ian) thinking your master was going to come and claim him and wouldn't you just know it? I don't see him. Care to explain that to me?" Fiona had crouched down politely to speak to the goblin and it seemed for the moment she'd regained her sense of patience.

"What? Are you a friken idiot or something? You just can't go round wishing _anyone _away!" The goblin replied flippantly.

"Look!" Without warning Fiona suddenly grabbed the goblin by the throat lifting it up with her as she stood. "I want into the Labyrinth. Do you got that? Eh?!? Now this can happen one of two ways, you either take me to the damn castle and let me talk to your stupid King or I just might have to lose my patience and..."

"Look there's his Majesty! Let's go ask him what te do..." Suddenly the small group of deliberating goblins hushed and glanced over at Fiona who was busy shaking the goblin in her grasp like a rage doll. At first glance it was understandable that the goblins momentarily mistakened Fiona for Jareth. After all she was almost as tall as him being about 5'9 and at a distance her temperament towards the goblins seemed about the same. Not to mention there was enough likeness in the face if not quite the hair for the goblins to miss read.

"Der...That's not his Majesty." The bulky hog faced goblin muttered dully one the goblins had turned there attention on Fiona. Even if Sarah and Ian had wanted to run off by this point there were too many goblins eyeing them from their positions on the walls.

"Out of my way you piss worms!" Suddenly a waspy sounding goblin from the back of the group pushed its way forward. "What is this rubbish?" The goblin speaking was non other then Fidget, one of Jareth's more intelligent subjects and more or less one that had a knack for logical assessment.

"Just who to do think you are ordering us around. You're not his Majesty!" Fidget demanded. "You know its highly considered an act of treachery to pass yourself off as his majesty. How do you explain our Lordship not being here?"

Was this ugly little creature accusing her of something? "Hey! I don't bloody well know where your King is. He was supposed to show up here. Whether the book's magic is binding or not, it's his duty to sort out these things."

"Ha! A likely story. Are you trying to tell me you're not in cahoots with that raven haired woman over there?" The goblin pointed at Sarah. "How do we know this isn't some crack pot scheme of revenge?" Fidget turned to his companions. "Something doesn't smell right. I say we take the whole lot of em in and string em up by their shoe laces until they tell us what they're up to. We've got enough problems to deal with without these lot taking up our time." Fidget cackled.

"FINE HAVE IT YOUR WAY." Fiona finally agreed throwing up her hands and stomping over to where Ian and Sarah were being surrounded.

Seeming to reach and agreement the goblins began to close in on the three.

Sarah couldn't believe what she was seeing or hearing. There was no way in hell she was going anywhere with these goblins especially when that woman, Fiona, was involved. Where was Jareth? Why was everyone so confused? Why was she as confused as the goblins to begin with? Why was she suddenly being cornered by these wretched creatures?

Cornered?...wait...Sarah stopped her train of thought and went wide eyed. They needed a plan. She had had a plan. Get away. Ian asked about that plan. They could either try and hide, runaway, but run away didn't seem to be the best plan of action. The goblins would find them.

She reached a hand for Ian's, perhaps to grab onto him to remind herself she wasn't alone in this 'unsettling' predicament or to run away...or...her fingers brushed against the heat the tattoo was pulsating. Ian wasn't playing cry baby when he whined that it really did hurt. The tattoo...a light flicked on in Sarah's head. '...With this no wall will ever bar you, no prison ever hold you. You will always be able to go where ever you like...'

She lifted Ian's hand and showed it to him as if the tattoo was some great discovery. "The tattoo," she exclaimed. "Use it!"

Ian looked down at his hand and then back up at Sarah as if she had lost her mind. "Use the tattoo?!" he squeaked. "Are you psychotic?!" Ian snatched his hand away, thrusting it out in front of him. "What'm I supposed to do, Sarah? Say 'Take us home!'?!"

The tattoo began to glow, and Ian felt a sharp jolt of electricity leap through his body. "Oh... shit."

On his skin, the black snake began to move, uncoiling itself from its half-moon position and rising, much like a living shadow, up off Ian's arm, weaving menacingly. The snake-ribbon gave an audible hiss and split suddenly into seven snake ribbons, all hissing and maneuvering about. Their black bodies began to twine together, around and around Ian's arm in intricate knot-work.

The pain became blinding. Ian stumbled back, grabbing Sarah with his free hand to avoid hitting the ground.

Somewhere, amidst his own screams and the goblins and a rushing sound like going through a tunnel, Ian heard a small, deep, dark voice whisper triumphantly, "Home..."

The snakes went rigid and then flashed down, sealing their now-braided bodies to Ian's arm, becoming again the tattoo. There was an eruption of light.

Ian felt a tremendous force crash against him, throwing him backward. It was momentary. He slammed into something hard and jagged. The breath left his body.

He fell forward, collapsing onto ground that was extremely arid and dusty. Ian gasped, gulping in air. His heartbeat began to slow. He opened his eyes.

First, just tan-yellow dirt and wispy, desiccated grass. Then Sarah laying face-up on the ground. Then thorny little shrubs. Then a pale blue sky and a bleak dawn. Ian turned just slightly to the right and gasped again. He struggled to his feet as he struggled to comprehend what he was seeing.

Big castle. Bigger labyrinth.

"You've got to be kidding me..."

"Damnit!" Sarah swore as balled up fists hit the dusty ground beneath her to emphasize her frustration. Her fingers splayed out and she pushed herself into a sitting position. With a deep frown her eyes moved over the area before settling coolly on Ian. Her fingers tickled against a clog of dirt, she picked it up, and threw it at him; hitting him in the side. Childish but appropiate.

"You idiot!" She exclaimed. "We were supposed to use that magic to go somewhere other then here. You've put us exactly in the place we don't want to be. We could have just let the goblins take us. It probably would have been easier!" She threw up her arms and then let them plop at her sides. Maybe she was being a bit harsh on Ian. It wasn't completely his fault they were in this mess.

Taking a breath she rose to her feet and began to dust off her blouse. Okay, where were they exactly? Near the gates below the bluff...perfect. She didn't want to go inside the maze...no way...but there was no where else to go...the area around them was...nothing but dying grass and dirt that lead to nowhere. She needed to find someone that knew what was going on. It was by coincidence that she met Ian and that woman...that Ian for some reason was being chosen to become a goblin...why she had that nightmare...why the Goblin King never showed up..it all made no sense and made her relinquish her agitation at Ian and fear for her friends.

Completely ignoring the fact she had just thrown dirt at Ian she started to casually walk down the hill towards the large gates. As annoyed as she was she had to get them out of this. She called out, "Hoggle! Where are you?"

The clod of dirt exploded into a little cloud of dust as it hit Ian, sending little earthy streaks across Ian's shirt, fanning out from the impact site. Ian growled, dusting himself off as well.

"Now listen here, Princess! If you think you can do better, then frickin' BE MY GUEST! As I recall, you're the genius that said, use the tattoo!" Ian bellowed, trudging down after Sarah, hearing her call out for someone. Hobble?

Ian searched the ground for a moment, spied a similarly-sized dirt-clod, and chucked it at Sarah. The little dust grenade flew proudly through the air and made contact with Sarah's right butt-cheek.

"HA!" Ian exclaimed, not waiting for her to turn, as he hurried after her. "And another thing!" That was all that Ian managed to get out before the ground went suddenly loose beneath him. His leg slid forward, and suddenly he was on his butt, sliding with a mini dirt avalanche down the hill, straight for Sarah.


End file.
